Mimeo
by Travelling Army Brat
Summary: It's not easy going to Xavier's Mutant School, especially when over half the people there are completely insane. Just ask poor unsuspecting Karen! a.k.a. Coffee. AU, OC, all that good stuff
1. Chapter 1

_**Mimeo**_

_Disclaimer- If I owned X-Men, I would not be wasting my time writing fanfic, I'd be working the real deal! ;) _

_Chapter 1: Mommy Dearest_

"You need to eat, Karen Meisenheimer!" Mom said to me firmly.

"I don't want to," I said. I ignored my stomach rumbling and continued to stare out the window.

Mom fidgeted nervously. Finally, she burst out, "Dear, please stay away from the windows. I'm just so afraid one of the neighbors will see you!"

I scowl angrily, but I honestly can't blame her for her worry. I happen to be a very . . . _obvious_ mutant. My skin is a dark gray, with veins of lighter gray running through my entire body. My hair is that reddish black that Native Americans have. And my eyes? Almost the worst part. They have no irises, just small pupils, leaving a vast blank whiteness in my eyes that makes me look insane, as if the wonky skin wasn't enough. Even that isn't the worst, my eyes, not having the iris, which is the muscle that affects the size of the pupils, are much slower to adjust to light than normal, making bright light painful to me. I can't even watch TV without wearing sunglasses. Isn't that lame?

All the time, you hear on the news, these wacko mutants with uber-cool powers. What can I do? I . . . run. From bright light. Yeah, that's it! I can definitely see me conquering the world with that one!

Not that I want to. You know, conquer the world. In all honesty, what would I do with it? Probably ruin it.

But yeah, Mom's still here, and she's still poking at me, trying to pull me away from the window. I give up and let her draw down the curtains. Why do I care? Oh yeah, because I'm dying for a breath of fresh air. I haven't left my house for three years. Not since the mob.

Obviously, I am now home-schooled. Which stinks, because, sorry Mom, but you just can't teach.

I used to be allowed to go with Mom to the store and such (school was never an option for me) as long as I kept my hoodie on and looked as unsuspicious as possible. Now that I think about it, that was dumb. From what I've seen on the news, as long as you're strutting around openly, acting like you belong wherever you are, then people are more likely to believe that you _do _belong, and leave you alone. If you're skulking around acting like you're afraid to get jumped, then you will probably get jumped.

But hey, what do I know? I'm the one who hasn't left her house in three years.

"Karen . . . Wake up Karen . . . Earth to Karen!" I heard a singsongy voice interrupt my musings.

"Eh . . . What?" I ask irritated. Mom smiles at me brightly. Too brightly. I've always hated her smiles, they're just a way to hide her feelings. Nothing real in them.

I follow Mom back into the kitchen and munch a sandwich contemplatively, thinking about my relationship with my mother. I knew my mother loved me, and would even die for me, but I knew that every day she was thinking, "Maybe I'll have to. Maybe today's the day that the neighbors will find out and storm our house with torches and pitchforks."

That's why she keeps me away from the window! 

It makes my life safer, but it also makes it immensely boring. All I can do all day is study (blech!) eat (candy!) sleep, and watch TV (soap operas of course!) I wish my life wasn't so . . . uneventful, and have even said so! However, all I got in reply was, "Better bored than dead,"

Seriously, what can you say to that?! Ah, no, sorry Mom. I'd much rather an adventurous, if short, life! Ah, no. Living is good. So naturally, I shut up, and get back to watching TV. It's a good thing that there are stairs in this house, otherwise I'd be at least 500 pounds.

"Honeybun, I'm going to go to work now. Are you positive that you're going to be all right?" Mom quizzed.

I rolled my eyes. We went through this every night. "Yes Mom. I memorized the escape route when I was four, I know where to go, and I'm sure that tonight is not the night when the _villagers_ will come bearing pitchforks." I stated.

Mom just looked at me sadly, and said softly, "You know I worry about you. I don't want anything to hurt you,"

"I know Mom," I said, relenting and giving her a hug. She wouldn't be back until after midnight, and the house was mine!

She slowly backed out of the house, pausing every two seconds to cry out, "I love you!" and, "Be careful! I left something for you in the fridge! Don't touch the stove!"

Yeesh!

I plopped down on the couch and proceeded to do what I did almost all the time, whether Mom was present or not. Watch TV. Watching TV till my brain melted and I became a zombie.

Speaking of which, Dawn of the Dead was on.

I watched it until I thought my eyes would melt right out of my head, and then got up and did a lap around the house.

When I got upstairs, I looked out of the forbidden window, just because I could.

"Huh. One of the neighbors is having a party," I muttered. With the sheer number of cars sitting on their lawn and ours, it couldn't have been anything else. Their house was brightly lit, stabbing into my sensitive eyes. I was about to turn away, scrubbing my eyes frantically, when some voices drifted up from below.

"Isn't she at work?"

"Yeah . . ."

"Why the hell is her TV on?"

"She must've forgotten to turn it off when she left."

"Yeah right. I bet there's somebody in there stealing shit."

"Oh, yeah, and they just took a moment to settle in and watch TV while they were at it!"

"You know, if someone's there, we should probably invite them to the party."

"Don't be dumb."

_Yes please! _I thought frantically, _Don't be dumb!!_

"Aw, come on. It would be nice!"

"Suppose it's like some eighty year old man who drools, or something?"

"I don't think so. Come on, what are ya, chicken?"

_Oh, god . . ._

"All right, fine! If we get into trouble though, its _your_ fault!"

They started banging on the door, laughing loudly. I was beginning to think they were a little drunk. I shrank back towards the wall, away from the window. Maybe they'd go away.

"Hey man, its unlocked. Lets just go in, 'kay?"

_Oh GOD!_

My mother ALWAYS locked it! What was happening here? The world was ending, at least for me. I could see it all. They'd find me, scream out, "Mutant!" and drag the whole neighborhood into this, and I would get beaten to death.

"Hey, there isn't anybody here!" someone called.

"Check upstairs, will ya?"

What do I do? I'm gonna die, gonna die, don't wanna die! I stumbled around, dangerously close to hysteria. No, scratch that. I must have been hysterical already. It's the only way I can explain what I did next.

I leaped out the window. It was one of those deals that swings out about three feet. I pumped the handle till it broke off, and then squirmed out feet first. You think that doesn't sound too silly? Remember, I was on the second floor.

I landed in my yard and did a face plant on a silver PT Cruiser, leaving a me-shaped dent in the hood. I ran out into the street, casting about wildly for some sort of escape route.

All of a sudden I was blinded by light of an intensity I didn't know existed. I was paralyzed, and I thought I might pass out from the excruciating pain in my eyes. I screamed aloud.

I heard the sound of brakes squealing, and someone roaring profanities, and then the wall of light faded, leaving me with a titanic headache.

I opened one eye, and then stumbled over to the other side of the road, where I dropped and curled up, making little wailing noises.

I was blind. I looked all around, and I could see nothing, not the bright house across the street, not the street lights, not my own hand inches from my face.

I got up and stumbled back across the street, trying to find my house.

I could find nothing. Not even the cars. I stretched out my arms desperately trying to find something, _anything_, to hold onto, to serve as guidance. I had never felt so helpless in my life.

I stumbled, catching my foot on a rock. I bent down to regain my balance, but I ended up flat on my butt. Sobbing, I started crawling on my hands and knees, because vertigo had caught up to me, and it suddenly felt like the world was bucking and spinning. It had started drizzling, too, and I was slowly getting soaked.

Finally I gave up and sat back, swaying back and forth trying to alleviate the nausea. I tipped my head back and screamed.

I heard the sound of another car coming towards me, and I groggily forced myself up, and tried to move off the road. However, just as I was gaining momentum, I lost my balance and pitched forward, my legs still pumping frantically. Expecting to meet hard asphalt, I instead fell through what seemed like empty space. After free falling for about two seconds that lasted forever, branches and twigs started slapping my face.

My head jerked back, straining my neck, as I finally reintroduced my face to the ground. My body didn't get the memo that gravity had won, however, and I felt myself flip over, as I started rolling down a sharp incline.

"God, it hurts," was my last thought before I passed out.

When I woke up again, it was accompanied by a musical shriek, which didn't seem to end. I was pretty sure my nose was smashed beyond all medical help. So I screamed, because dammit! It hurt!

So reduced to a puddle of whimpering pain, I failed to notice something very important. While I still could not see, instead of being endless darkness, it was like a light blur with the occasional dark smear.

Like an idiot, I attempted to get up and start walking around, and only managed to fall backwards and land on my butt. While I was down, I decided to take stock of my injuries, considering how painful my most recent landing had been.

My ankle was sore, but no swelling, it wasn't sprained, I probably just rolled it a little. My nose was broken and horrible, the less said the better. I was covered in shallow scrapes, and probably bruises, too, but they were harder to see. I could breathe normally, my ribs were fine.

On the whole, I had been frighteningly lucky. But, luck has to end somewhere, and I was sure mine had just run out.

_How do I get home?_

I couldn't just hang out here until my vision recovered, assuming it did. I couldn't just walk on out of here and ask someone for directions. Mom had told me that every crowd is a mob waiting to happen. What do I do? Try and find my own way back? Not likely! I couldn't see!

I sat down and cried, suddenly aware that my nose was even still bleeding. It felt like murder.

There was only one option that I would even dare try, and that was to find my way home myself. I stood up dizzily, and made my way determinedly to the top of this . . . ditch. I fell in a ditch. Doesn't that do wonders for the ego.

Holding my wrist to my nose, I determinedly hiked up the unforgiving slope, wincing at every step. Finally, I made my way to the top. There was no one there. Gleefully, I skipped forward, then crashed to my knee, as I remembered my injuries. I growled, and said some very bad words in dog language. Once again, I hefted myself up to my feet, and dragged myself forward.

Oh, god, people. They're staring at me. Cue the torches and hanging rope.

Travelling Army Brat

That's all for now, folks! If you review, I'll continue! I'll also assume that I am loved. So review, dammit! ;)


	2. Chapter 2

_**Mimeo**_

_Disclaimer- If I owned X-Men, I would not be wasting my time writing fanfic, I'd be working the real deal! ;) _

_Chapter 2: Mommy Dearest_

I squinted against the bright sun that was making seeing a lot more difficult than it had to be, all things considered.

After a few minutes of standing uselessly squinting, with my mouth open, I began to doubt myself. Perhaps they were just weird blobs in my vision.

Suddenly, one of the blobs started moving and talking to the other blobs. I couldn't make out what was being said, but it was obviously about me. I mean, duh, if a chick with gray skin and blood all over the place started wandering around your streets, wouldn't you at least be talking about it?

I turned to try and run, but found myself frozen in place. I couldn't think, the throbbing in my head was so bad I wondered how I had managed to stay conscious this long. It felt suspiciously like an ice pick had been rammed up my nose.

I vaguely heard the blobs shouting at me, something about not running away. Yeah, even if I could, where am I gonna go? I'm a mutant for chrissakes.

I suddenly was heading face first into the ground for the umpteenth time; as the hold on me disappeared. I felt more than heard a dull crunch, and then welcome darkness overcame me.

I drifted for a while in a sea of black timeless nothing, like you do when you sleep without dreams. So it was a very unhappy Karen, wanting more sleep, who awoke to an excruciatingly painful broken nose.

I opened my eyes, and instantly regretted it. There was no bright lamp shining in my face, but the fluorescent lights on above me were wreaking havoc with my migraine.

Of course the last sight I would ever have expected to see was a blue, furry face peering over me.

I might have screamed, or done something equally foolish, but my headache was of such intensity that any minute now it would go off and conquer China.

"Painkillers . . ." I croaked. The blue face above me disappeared for a minute, to be replaced by a huge furry paw; bearing my precious pills!

I snatched at them and swallowed them dry, closing my eyes and slipping off to sleep again.

When I awoke, I was much more alert, and therefore able to observe more about my surroundings. I appeared to be in a hospital. My nerves went into overdrive. Had I been kidnapped? Was I being experimented on? Was I delirious, or was there a giant blue furry man standing by me earlier?

I suddenly remembered my nose, and my hand leapt up to my face. My entire head was swathed in bandages. How had I not noticed this before? A large plastic support thing was propped over my nose, so I decided not to touch it.

I swung up, ignoring the rush of nausea. It looked like a little hospital room, all sorts of instruments of torture lying around looking evil.

The door at my far right suddenly opened, Star Trek style, and aforementioned blue man strode in. My hands flew to my face, but I forced them down to my sides before they caused any damage. I clenched my fists, and quietly reminded myself that he had given me painkillers. He wasn't scary. Not even a little bit. In fact, he looked like a teddy bear. With claws. And fangs. And wearing scrubs, too.

I cleared my throat, and asked in a strong voice, albeit muffled from the bandages on my nose, "Where amb I?" All right, I lied, it sounded more like a squeak. At least I asked!

He smiled at me, showing pointy fangs. At least, I guess it was a smile. I think it really was too pointy to be a smile.

He spread his arms out wide, and said in a deep, cultured voice (huh?) "You're at Xavier's School for Gifted Youngsters, my dear," I stared at him, and shook my head.

"Huh?" I managed. "I dought it was an hosp'tal?"

"No, you're in the infirmary. You busted that nose of yours pretty badly."

"Why ab I 'ere?"

"You're a mutant, correct? Of course you are. You're here, because this is a safe haven for mutants, and you could possibly stay on, and learn how to control your gift."

"I'b no' gidded," I said, which translated to, "I'm not gifted." I slid off the table, which felt horribly like a dissection table to me.

Blue dude tsked "You are special and gifted, just like everyone else within these walls," he said sternly.

"A 'utant schoo', huh?" I said, starting to feel a little curious.

"Yes. A place where we can be safe," he said, gesturing broadly. He turned around and snagged a twinkie out of one of his drawers. With a look of exaggerated relish, he ripped the plastic off, and started munching. I couldn't help but laugh at his antics.

He smiled back, obviously trying hard to put me at my ease. He then delicately washed his hands, coming over and starting to examine my bandages, and whether or not they were bleeding.

Just then, a tall, red-headed lady stepped in the room.

"How is she Hank?" she asked. She looked around for a minute, and then let out a surprised, "Oh!" when she saw me up and munching on a second twinkie.

"She's fine, Jean. Why don't you get Charles, since she's up?" Blue dude, whose name is apparently Hank, suggested.

Instead of leaving, 'Jean' just screwed up her face, and hunched her shoulders. After a minute, she straightened out and announced that he'd "Be down in a minute."

"Excellent," Hank nodded, not looking a bit surprised. I couldn't say the same for myself, though. Jean noticed the puzzled look on my face, and proceeded to explain.

"I'm a telepath," she stated, sounding a little proud. I nodded slowly, pretending I knew what this meant. She looked at me funny, and then said, "That means I can read what other people are thinking." I gaped at her, and scrambled to clear my thoughts. She smiled, and continued, "Also, I can move things with my mind,"

I looked at her, and smiled blandly, trying not to think. I couldn't help it though, every one of those pesky voices in my head were screaming, "Not fair!" at me. How come I have no gifts, she has two? Why was I stuck with a freakish appearance, while she looked . . . well, _better_ than normal?

But of course, I made sure I didn't think any of this. Not even a little bit. So I wasn't sure what the funny look she was giving me was about. She looked about ready to say something corny, when the door slid open again.

A bald man in a wheelchair rolled in. He leaned over to Jean and told her softly, "I have a lot to do, you're going to have to handle most of this."

Then he rolled over to me, smiling warmly. I felt miffed by his lack of time for me, but that was a little silly.

He steepled his fingers and looked at me attentively. "I'm sure by now my colleagues have told you where you are," he said softly, but firmly. "You are in my school for mutants. This is a place where we can avoid persecution, and learn and grow to appreciate our heritage, without being constantly told that we are mistakes, or freaks. If you want, you can stay here, you're quite welcome."

I frowned. What about mother?

"You can call your mother right now, if you wish," he said. The whole time when he was talking, he looked me directly in the eyes. I reluctantly began to trust him.

There was a phone hanging on the wall, out of place as it looked. I cautiously went over, and started dialing my home number.

It picked up on the first ring. "Hello?" came my mother's voice. Her voice was scratchy and broken sounding. I winced. She must be so worried!

"Hi, mom? It's me—" anything else I wanted to say was cut off by mom's great, accusing wail.

"_Where have you been? I've been worried sick! Where are you? Are you hurt? Oh, my poor baby, were you kidnapped? Did anybody see you? I don't, I just can't—"_

"Mom, Mom!" I had to shout to be heard. "Mom, I'm okay, I – I'm okay. I'm fine. I just . . . well, its complicated,"

She was silent for a few moments, and then said in a slow, dangerous voice, "You're okay."

"Yes."

"It's hard to explain?"

"Um, yeah, a little bit."

"Where are you?"

"I'm at a school for mutants. It's really cool. I guess there's people like me here. And I guess we don't have to worry about mobs and junk here," I said enthusiastically.

Mom's voice changed, some of the fear bled into it. "It sounds . . . too good to be true. It might be. Where are you?"

"I – I don't know," I stuttered. I twisted around, looking to the others for help. "Jean mouthed at me, "New York!"

"Ah, um. New York, mom."

"Karen, why don't you let me talk to her?" Mr. Xavier suggested. I gladly handed him the phone. "Mrs. Meisenheimer, your daughter managed to run into some of my associates, in trouble I believe, from marauders invading your house. No, just some irresponsible teenagers. Well –"

My brain tuned out as I realized I had told none of them any of this, especially not my last name. Heck, I hadn't even told them my first name! I shot an accusing look at Mrs. Jean. She smirked at me, and then thought somehow _to _me, _"He's a telepath too, you know. A very powerful one. Quite possibly the strongest in the world,"_

I looked at the paraplegic with a new wariness and respect. I felt Mrs. Jean's presence leave my mind. It was kind of a sticky feeling, like taffy being pulled.

"That's wonderful, Mrs. Meisenheimer. Would you like to speak with your daughter again? Of course. Karen?" Mr. Xavier called. I walked over, Jean's voice tickling my thoughts anew.

"_It's _Professor _Xavier, _shewhispered, laughing quietly. I mentally swatted at her presence, irritated, and she obligingly left.

I took the phone from _Professor_ Xavier, _remember, he's psychic, keep your thoughts down!_

"Yeah, Mom?" I said.

"Well, dear, I'm not quite sure what to say." She murmured. "Professor Xavier certainly seems like a nice man, but I'm just not sure. It's so sudden, it's a lot to take in."

_You have no idea_ I thought to myself, glancing at the enormous man behind me with blue fur.

"Well, I'll be coming to see the school to see for myself. I'll make _sure_ I'm there by at least tomorrow, to break you out if necessary!"

"Oh, mom," I said, but with none of my usual teenage scorn. In fact, I was a little relieved. I had been afraid she would just dump me off here, and forget about me.

We finished with dozens of, love you's, take care see you tomorrow, drive carefully's, blah blah blah.

I hung up, and looked around to see everybody looking at me expectantly. I announced solemnly, "She's coming," They all smiled in approval. The painkiller's must have started to wear off, because I could feel my face beginning to throb.

Dr. Hank came to the rescue. "I think Karen needs to sleep now, she looks exhausted. I nodded, throwing in a yawn for good measure. Everybody immediately began wishing me sweet dreams, and hope you feel better, and began filing out.

I lay on the metal bed, a thin sheet separating me from the cold metal, and stared at the ceiling. The fluorescent lights were on dim, and I had had quite some time to adjust to them, but I still couldn't look at them. I lay there, and wished I were useful, and that I had a talent I could be proud of.

I woke up the next morning, and panicked, seeing a ceiling that was unfamiliar. I somehow managed to flip over the bed, and landed on my butt. I just sat for a long minute, unable to breathe. Finally, air rushed back into my lungs in the form of a heart breaking wail.

I glanced around, and the memories of yesterday came flooding back. I relaxed against the cold bed. I heard footsteps tapping down the hallway, and looked around. The red-haired lady, um . . . Mrs. Jean, came through the door, coming to a stop and pursing her lips as she noticed my absence.

I stood up wobbly, and walked over to her. She firmly took my hand, and started walking me down the hall.

"Your mother is coming today, so we want you to get all settled into your room, and get a bandage for your nose that doesn't look quite so barbaric, she explained.

I had never seen the rest of the school, and so when we stepped out of the futuristic elevator, I gasped aloud.

It was just gorgeous. Hardwood floors, beautiful paintings, warm rich colors, everything was extraordinarily perfect looking, and yet still looked so warm and inviting. The staircases were sturdy, and made of beautifully stained oak, and seemed to go on forever.

"This is a _school_?" I sputtered. Jean laughed. "Yes, but it's also Professor Xavier's mansion," she informed me. I stared at everything, my eyes bugging out.

We entered a corridor where there was just a long row of doors on either side. She led me up to one of the doors, and showed me in.

It certainly was a nice room, nothing special, but attractive in a simple way. I liked it.

"I assume your mother will be bringing some of your things, if not, we'll just have to take you shopping," she said briskly. I plopped down on the bed and smiled.

"Come on, " she said. "Hank has to change the dressing on that bandage," I sighed and forced myself off the comfy bed. We went a different way than we had come, ruining any chance I had of memorizing the way. We passed by the front of the door, just as it burst open. I dodged out of the way, as did every other sensible person, to see my mother bursting through.

"I'm so sorry I'm late," she gasped. "Traffic was just atr – Karen! What happened to your FACE?!" she suddenly shrieked.

Travelling Army Brat

That's all for now, folks! If you review, I'll continue! I'll also assume that I am loved. So review, dammit! ;)


	3. Chapter 3

_**Mimeo**_

_Disclaimer- If I owned X-Men, I would not be wasting my time writing fanfic, I'd be working the real deal! ;) _

_Chapter 3: Just The Begininng_

Dr. Hank nearly had to be called down to sedate Mom. She was thrashing around, screaming "Abuse!" at the top of her lungs, threatening legal action, and trying to drag me out of the door. Mrs. Jean finally had to telepathically "suggest" that Mom calm down and listen. While still dazed, we dragged her up to Professor Xavier's office, and had somebody drag her luggage up to my room, as most of it happened to be my stuff.

By the time we got there, Mom had fully recovered, and was glaring daggers at Jean, seemingly convinced she had been abusing me.

When we opened the door, a mound of paperwork surrounded Professor Xavier. He peeked over one of the mountains, and looked at us, surprised. Then his face relaxed into a grin, and he sat back and had a good chuckle.

This did not please Mom at all. She leaned forward and slammed her palms onto his table, sending stacks sliding down to the floor. He followed its descent with his eyes, looking depressed.

"I would just love to know why it is that my daughter has been injured, Mister." She spat. "Maybe that's part of your therapy? Maybe entertainment for you people is hitting young mutant girls? I don't think any of you are mutants at all. This is some kind of plot, isn't it? Did you think you'd get away with it? Did you think maybe I wouldn't come after all?"

I cringed, and slid down in my seat. This was getting out of hand.

However, with perfect timing, Dr. Hank came into the office. The huge furry man was well over seven feet tall, and he towered over us, especially while we were sitting. Mom's reaction was rather dramatic.

"Aah! Oh, oh, oh, ack, oh my god!" she spewed out, leaping to her feet and looking ready to run.

I decided it was high time to step in. Any man who gave me twinkies was worthy of being defended against my crazed mother.

"Mom! Chill out!" I snapped. Ok, not original, or very effective. All she did was grab my wrist and start looking suggestively towards the door. I tried again. "Mom, this is my Doctor, Dr. Hank." He bowed gravely, keeping his eerily blue eyes fixed on her

Now I knew I had said the wrong thing. "He's your doctor?" Mom asked weakly. She looked at him, and stammered out an apology.

I tried a different tack. "Mom, nobody has been beating me here. When those kids broke into our house, I jumped out of my bedroom window and landed on a car. That's all. It's okay! Really!"

Mom gave me a glassy stare. Speaking up, the Professor said, "Karen, would you mind leaving us a moment?"

While I gaped at him open-mouthed, Mrs. Jean and Dr. Hank handed me off to the door, and then shut it on me very firmly. I glared at the door for a minute, and then put my ear to it.

"_No eavesdropping, Karen,"_ the Professor's voice sounded in my head very firmly – he sounded a little disappointed.

I hastily retreated from the door. I guess Mrs. Jean wasn't kidding about him being a telepath.

I sat against the opposite wall and stared at the door for a few minutes before I heard footsteps coming down the corridor. Dr. Hank hadn't had time to change my bandages into less atrocious looking things, so I ducked my head and let my hair cover my face.

"Hey, are you the new student?" a girl asked. I looked up, to see a girl with brown hair looking at me.

"Yeah," I muttered, my face behind my hand.

"That's cool," she said. She turned and walked slowly away.

"Hey, what's your name?" I called, a little sorry for being so rude.

She turned and smiled grimly at me. "It doesn't matter," she said. 'You won't remember it anyways." She continued to walk away.

I puzzled over this for a moment, but lost interest a moment before she turned the corner. I sat for a while longer, wondering what they could possibly be talking about in that office so quietly.

I heard several pairs of footsteps walking down the corridor. I perked up slightly. Maybe I would be able to talk to them. I was a little nervous, I hadn't had real contact with people my own age since . . . well, ever. I would have to play it cool, and remember my TV training.

An oriental girl wearing a bright yellow rain coat that went down to her knees walked by, along with a girl with brown hair with two white stripes in the bangs.

I quickly put my face behind my hand.

"Hey, who're you?" the oriental girl demanded bluntly.

"I'm Karen," I said, my voice muffled from behind my hand. They looked at me oddly, but continued.

"My names Jubilation Lee, but everybody calls me Jubilee," the Asian girl said. "And her name is Rogue, she has no other," she said, finishing with a dramatic flair.

I smiled. Rogue said hi in a soft, southern accent.

"Can I ask you a question?" I asked.

"You just did! No, I'm kidding. Shoot."

"Why are you wearing a rain coat inside?"

Jubilee looked offended. "This is not a raincoat." She informed me. "It is a yellow trench coat. And why are you holding your hand in front of your face?"

I blushed and lowered it, feeling doubly exposed. I had long sleeves and jeans on, and in the dim light it was hard to tell my skin color, but now it was obvious. Plus, there was the hideous nose problem.

"I'm sorry," I said, shamed. "It's just that I broke my nose recently, and the bandage looks monstrous."

"Hey, you've got silver skin! That's so pretty." Jubilee gushed. I blinked. Silver? Pretty? Were we still talking about me? But Jubilee didn't stop there. "I wish I had cool skin; mebbe like Kurt. He's so exotic looking,"

"His skin is blue,'' Rogue offered.

''He's got these neat symbolic scars all over his skin, too."

My eyes widened. Apparently, I was not going to stand out in this school.

"Um, have yah seen anybody else come down hyere?" Rogue asked

"No. Why?"

"Just wonderin'"

Rogue, Jubilee and I talked a little more, and then they swore they had to go, they were going to get in trouble.

Finally, Mom, Professor Xavier and the others came out. Mom was apologizing profusely.

''I'm sorry. I acted like such a fool. I feel so bad for making a scene,'' she was saying. She turned to me, and hugged me. "I'm sorry for embarrassing you," she whispered in my ear. At a loss, I hugged her back.

Over her shoulder, I looked at the professor, and mouthed, "Mind control?"

He just smiled and shook his head, which wasn't really an answer, come to think of it.

We went down to the infirmary, where Dr. Hank explained the nature of the break to her, and showed her x-rays, and told her how long it would take to heal.

"Normally," he said, puffing out his chest a little, "It would take months for a severe break like this to heal. But thanks to our advanced facilities, it will only take a minimum of two weeks."

I whistled. This was the first time I had seen my own x-rays, and it looked to be a doozy. It seemed every bone in my nose was broken, several times.

"Well, I'll stay here until your face heals, and you can begin classes," Mom decided.

Dr. Hank looked most uncomfortable. "I'm afraid that would be a little inconvenient for the staff –'' he started.

"I'm staying," Mom interrupted, and that was that.

It proved to be the most miserable two weeks of my life. Not only did my nose hurt, but Mom was dogging my every step, and seemed convinced that leaving the infirmary would be the death of me. It took Mrs. Jean and Dr. Hank combined to convince her to let me sleep in my room. I had to stay in the infirmary the first night she was there.

Of course she had to stay in my room, which was completely humiliating. Plus, we fought the whole time.

"You're not gonna wear that top are you?" she'd ask.

"Yeah, actually I am."

"Are you sure? I mean, it's cut pretty low. You might want to wear something that's a little more . . . concealing."

Ouch.

Plus, the woman snores. She snores loudly. I love my mom, but I do not love the train inhabiting her throat. And all the time, fussing over me, and telling me not to scratch at the bandages, and don't put so much makeup on, who are you going to show anyways. Just all sorts of backhanded love. Backhanded love hurts.

She found me once in the kitchen, and oh, you would've thought the sky was falling from her freak-out. I couldn't even tell if she was mad at me, or just scared. She didn't seem to be able to grasp the fact that the mansion was filled with mutants, none of whom would stone me.

But the business of my nose . . . It was god-awful. I wouldn't wish agony like that on my worst enemy. Even better, after day two, Dr. Hank refused to give me any more painkillers, making some snide remark about overdosing and dying. Whatever. He also hid the aspirin, so I couldn't even find relief in that corner, as ineffective as it would've been.

I was talking to this one girl, named Kitty Pryde, and we hit it off pretty quick. I just changed the subject when she asked what my powers were. We had some giggles, ate some ice cream, and watched _V for Vendetta_, and had a great time.

We also painted each other's nails. Hers ended up this nice cerulean blue, and mine ended up bright red. It looked really shocking against my gray skin.

However, when I told Mom about it, she just smiled and patted my arm patronizingly, saying, "Of course, dear." Like she didn't believe me, thought I was making it up. Was it that hard to believe, that I could make friends?

But finally the two weeks were over, my nose didn't hurt anymore, although my face was still bruised. (Try seeing bruises on gray skin, you'll find some pretty interesting colors!) The giant, hideous bandage was peeled off my face to be replaced with a small strip over the bridge of my now fabulously crooked nose.

And best of all, Mom was leaving! Oh, I know, it sounds awful, but she was wearing me to death. I mean, sure, it's nice to have a mother who loves me even though I'm a mutant, and that she isn't beating me and crap. (I heard some of the students' histories, and let me tell you what, some of them are pretty gruesome!) But really Mom, I need air! You're stifling me!

I'm horrible. She's done nothing but try and protect me, I must be the most ungrateful child in the world, and for what? I should be glad she kept me, even though I'm a mutant.

I was snapped back to the present by Mom's shrieked, teary good-byes. Before, she had latched onto me like an octopus, threatening to strangle me. Now she was being ushered out the door, stopping every two seconds to scream out, "I love you!" and "Be careful!" If she told me not to touch the stove again, I was gonna freak.

But finally she was gone, after having extorted many promises to call her. Like, every night.

I spent an hour lounging around in the kitchen, looking for something good to eat, but not really caring if I found it or not. Finally, the Professor called me mentally.

"_Karen, I'd like you to come to my office please," _he said.

I trudged up the stairs and across the numerous passages. I knew when I started classes I would be hopelessly lost, but I had made sure to memorize three routes; the way to the kitchen, the way to my room, and the way to the Professor's office.

I timidly walked up to the nice oak doors, and knocked lightly. Before I had managed to lift my hand from the door, he called, "Come in, Karen."

I opened the doors, and walked in. A dude with sunglasses on, and a black woman with white hair were standing next to him. I nearly backed out again. I don't do crowds, and the three of them staring accusingly definitely made me feel like three's company, four's a crowd.

"It's all right Karen. They're not going to hurt you," Professor Xavier said in a reassuring voice. I stepped in, trying to hide the sneer on my face. Hurt me indeed!

The Professor introduced them both, but my mind had just gone on vacation, therefore I wasn't listening. I think the lady was Windy, or something.

Professor Xavier handed me a paper. I snatched at it, wiping my sweaty hands on my pants. Even so, the paper ended up with a big damp spot on it. I glanced at it, not letting my gaze rest on it too long, before glancing back up at my enemies – er, I mean Professor Xavier's associates.

It turned out to be a class schedule. I folded the paper, and tucked it down the front of my shirt. Glasses man shuddered and looked away. Windy whatsername snickered.

"As you know, classes are beginning the day after tomorrow," the Professor said gravely, ignoring the two behind him. "I want you to be prepared; to know where the classrooms are, to become acquainted with both the instructor, and the material. Do you understand?" he asked.

I squirmed. It wasn't fair! "Yes," I answered reluctantly. I kept a sharp eye on the other two, who had composed themselves by that point.

He nodded. "You may go," he said, waving at the door.

I slowly backed towards the door, and grasped the handle, making sure I was still facing them. I slid through the door, barely opening it, and closing it the moment I slid through. I paused for thought. Why had those two made me so uncomfortable? Was it their fiery, accusing glares?

No, that couldn't have been it. Glasses man shades made it impossible to see whether he was glaring or not, and Windy Whatsername, while not exactly friendly looking, at least didn't have fire shooting out of her glare.

I flopped down on my bed, being careful of my nose, and yanked the paper out from under my shirt. I had only done that to distract them, and damned if it hadn't worked.

I eyed my schedule. Trigonometry? Eep. Advanced Lit., fine. World History, not my strong point. Gym. Oh yippee, a great opportunity to show everybody how weak I am. Chemistry; sounds evil. German. Hmm, that sounded fun. Hopefully it would be easy. And Psychology. I blanched. It sounded barbaric. I just knew I would fail that class.

I sighed, and slapped the letter of bad news onto my dresser. It looked like this would be a tough year. It wasn't fair!

Travelling Army Brat

Thanks to **Mnsomne's Tears**, and special thanks to my first reviewer, **The Painted Lady**. You guys rock. Hopefully you'll continue to like this story, and also like the review button! ;)

That's all for now, folks! If you review, I'll continue! I'll also assume that I am loved. So review, dammit! ;)


	4. Chapter 4

_**Mimeo**_

_Disclaimer- What, do you think I'm gonna suddenly say they're mine? Not happening. ;) _

_Chapter 4: Making Friends And Enemies_

I awoke with a jerk, the alarm rudely blaring in my ear. I flapped around desperately until my hand connected with the alarm, and switched it off. I had some serious thoughts of just going back to sleep, but I really did want to meet people, even if just to prove my Mom wrong.

I stumbled around blearily, searching for some clothes, and catching my big toe on the end of the bed. I hopped around the room painfully, muttering some choice words, as I pulled out the 'low-cut' top that Mom had so enthusiastically disapproved of.

It wasn't like it was that low anyways. It came down just below my collarbone. However, all my other shirts were turtlenecks. I hesitated, and then grabbed my sunglasses, to protect my poor sensitive eyes.

I finally wrestled into my clothes, and stepped outside of my room. I instantly stepped back inside, and decided to wait for the pandemonium to die down, as a solid sea of students rushed by.

"Stop this!" I scolded myself. "You're being a baby. Go out there and . . . and mingle, or something!"

I stepped back out, and was instantly swept up, and nearly stepped on. Nobody seemed to notice me, and I soon realized why. There were many other, more interesting characters in this crowd. A girl who looked like she'd fallen on a painter's palette, speckled and streaked in every possible color. I watched in amazement as she bumped into somebody, and instantly the wild colors changed to match the unfortunate victim's shirt.

There was another girl whose hair stuck straight up with electricity, who jolted the boy in front of her (who had blue hair) in the butt. A boy, walking next to me, had seven fingers on each hand. Another kid had no mouth, just blank, smooth skin. I looked away quickly.

These were the only people I could see though who were obviously mutants at first glance. The others all looked normal. There might be something strange about their appearance, of course, but it wasn't visible at first glance, like maybe eyes that were a little _too_ blue, or hair that seemed to move of its own accord.

I was definitely with my own kind, here.

We suddenly spilled out into another hall, and suddenly people started to branch off, disappearing into doorways. I took out the paper the Professor had given me and studied it.

I groaned softly. I was on the wrong floor.

After trudging up miles of stairs, I finally reached the right floor, and ducked into the classroom just as the bell rang. To my surprise, the Windy Whatsername lady was the teacher.

Before I could slide into a seat and concentrate on being invisible, she called me up to the front of the class, and introduced me. I wished death to her and all her descendants. From her seat, Jubilee waved madly.

"Ladies and gentlemen, settle down. Everybody, this is Karen Meisenheimer. She's a new student here. If you find she's lost, or needs any help, I expect you'll help her."

I winced. I was glad I was wearing my sunglasses. I could feel a hot blush creeping up my cheeks, and trust me, blushing when you're skin is gray isn't pretty. You just turn this kind of nasty purplish color. Of course thinking about that made me blush harder. I feebly waved, and then did a mad dash for the closest seat, which, ironically, already had someone in it.

I was about ready to start bawling, but I slunk away, muttering an apology from behind my shoulder. I held my head as high as I could with my tail between my legs, while the class hooted with laughter. I slouched into another desk; this one empty of course, and glared at the smooth surface.

"My name is Miss Munroe, and I expect to be addressed as such," she stated. "Not Storm, not Ororo, not Miss Ororo, and certainly not 'Ro." I looked at her, my mouth open. Why would she have so many names?

"As you know, you're here to learn Trigonometry," she continued. "So let's get on with it, shall we?" With that, she turned to the board, and lost my attention forever.

After a few minutes of doodling in my notebook, I felt a hard poke right between my shoulder blades.

"So what are you in for?" some dumb looking kid with brown hair asked me. I gave him a blank stare. He seemed to grow impatient. "You know, what's your schtick? What can you do?"

I felt like being snotty, since he poked me so hard, so I just said to him, "Oh, I do lots of things. I live, I learn, I love, I grow."

He gave me an incredulous look, and then sat back, shaking his head. "Them's the lamest powers I ever heard of," he muttered. I groaned and shook my head.

I was not the only one who wasn't paying attention. To my right, one girl was drawing a butterfly in her notebook. She waved her hand, and it peeled off the page, and fluttered away.

To my left, an arrogant looking boy was busy playing with a small flame, manipulating it expertly. When he noticed me staring, he glared and extinguished it by clenching his fist. His expression promised that he'd do the same to me; given half a chance.

I finally decided to just keep my eyes on my notebook.

I felt horribly exposed. I hadn't been so out in the open since . . . well, since the mob. Even though I was surrounded by people like me, I still felt out of place. I needed ice cream! I wasn't even through my first class yet.

I glanced up at Miss Munroe. Her voice, which had sounded lovely and lilting while she was introducing me (I could hear her evil smile) had gone flat and dull while she was teaching. She didn't appear to be enjoying this any more than I did.

I looked around quickly, catching at least three open displays of powers. I felt tears pricking my eyelids. I was powerless. All these freaky powers just served to make me jealous. I adjusted my glasses and sighed, glad no one could see my freaky eyes. Plus, the bright lights were giving me a formidable headache, even with the shades.

"Look on the bright side," I coached myself. "At least you don't do anything embarrassing, like – like shed your skin!"

Very abruptly, the bell rung. I fell back, clutching at my chest, while everybody else filed out quietly. I recovered, and slunk out, leaving my self-respect behind.

Before I got far, Jubilee snagged my elbow. "Hey, Karen, isn't it?" she asked. I nodded mutely. She snapped her gum loudly, and said, "Great. Come on, your next class is with me." Still holding my elbow, she began to drag me down the hall at top speed. I began to wonder if her mutation involved super-speed.

To my surprise, Glasses Man was teaching Advanced Lit. I was busy goofing off with Jubilee, so I missed his name again. I really couldn't have cared less. Besides, all he had us do that period was read a short poem, and then we were free to make trouble – er, talk quietly.

I started off talking to Jubilee, but Rogue came over and joined in, and we came to the agreement that we would eat lunch together.

Another girl came over. I hated her on sight. Blonde, blue-eyed, beautiful. I bet she dyes her hair, wears colored contacts, and has fake boobs.

"Hey, Karen, this is Rachel Byrne," Jubilee introduced. I gave her my best glacial look. My mean looks have always been really scary, because of my insane looking eyes. However, this chick wasn't even phased, she just flipped her hair and gave me a bubbly smile.

Suddenly my chair rocketed to the side about two feet. I yelled as I fell out of my chair and landed on my butt, my sunglasses skittering away.

"Benny!" Rogue cried, as if exasperated. I looked in the direction she was looking. A tall, thin guy with blue hair was sitting; whistling and twiddling his thumbs, looking anywhere except at me. After a few minutes, he looked at Rogue and demanded, "What?"

I slowly stood up, picking up the chair. I walked over to him, accentuating every movement, and swinging the chair behind me. I widened my eyes as far as they'd go, and gave him the biggest, toothiest grin I had. Benny looked at me, his eyebrows skyrocketing.

I slammed the chair down in front of him as hard as I could.

"I think you dropped this," I said to him quietly. He looked away. I walked back to my friends, swinging my hips as I went. Only then did I realize the whole class had been watching, and now were whispering busily. One boy reached over and punched Benny on the shoulder, laughing at him

"That was awesome!" Rachel laughed. "I seriously thought you were gonna kick his ass!"

"That was good," Jubilee said laughing. Rogue was laughing too, but she seemed much more subdued. I noticed she was also sitting slightly apart.

For whatever reason, Rachel suddenly straightened up, and said to me casually, "So, what are your powers?"

I looked down, angry with her for ruining the fun, and said stiffly, "I don't have any. I just look like a freak."

They all rushed to assure me that I looked no such thing, that I was pretty, and that silver skin was not something to be taken for granted.

Jubilee raised her hand. Instantly, multi-colored sparks scattered across her palm. "I can make fireworks," she said, grinning happily.

Rachel struck a pose. "I can raise and lower IQs," she said, her voice smug. "I've already made myself a genius." She bent over and whispered to us confidentially, "The problem is, it doesn't last. If I lower someone's IQ to say, 50, it'll be back up to normal levels within the day. Same if I raise it."

I gaped at her. If she was a genius, then my grandfather was Santa Claus.

Jubilee glanced at Rogue, who shook her head and huddled further into her seat. I wondered about that, but before I blurted out something stupid, the bell rang, and we all had to get up to go.

Mrs. Jean, who demanded to be called Mrs. Grey, was teaching World History.

"I think, considering the state of political upheaval in this country over the appearance of mutants, the best subject of history that we could focus on is recent past, about fifty years ago, when the mutants appearance in society was first widely noted," she explained. Did this woman come with a translator?

We learned that mutants were first recognized in Nazi Germany, where they were experimented on along with Jews and Gypsies.

A teacher who is a telepath has an unfair advantage. She knows when you're going to talk before you do. It was common for her to suddenly stop talking in an otherwise silent room, and tell a student not to talk. She also knows when you're drifting off, or not listening.

Forty-five minutes later, I knew more about mutant history than I ever wanted to. When the bell rang, I slid out as fast as I could.

"Hey, where do I go for PE?" I asked Rogue, who was scurrying by.

"We have it in the Danger Room. Fahllow me, that's where Ah'm going," she said.

"Danger Room?" I asked no one in particular. I hurried to keep pace with Rogue. She was walking awfully fast.

"Logan just got back last night, so he's gonna be grumpy," she warned me. "He's a good guy, but he can be kahnda rough."

Assuming 'Logan' was the teacher, I stored this information away. He finally came up on some big, metal looking doors. Rogue punched some buttons, and we stepped into one of the bigger rooms I've ever seen.

There was another group standing about in the middle, and we walked over to join them. I shifted uncomfortably as all eyes turned to me, looked me over, and then turned away simultaneously.

We waited for a while, silently waiting for our famously grumpy teacher to arrive.

Finally he burst in, looking a little rumpled. His hair was standing up on end in a weird way, and his shirt looked rumpled, like he'd slept in it.

"All right kiddies," he growled, looking unenthused. "Apparently, you're all weak, and out of shape. I'm here to hopefully make you less out of shape, although I give up on the weak part."

"Hey!" one guy objected. Mr. Logan spun around and glared at him.

"Yeah, kiddy? You think you got something to say to me?" he sneered.

Rogue's mouth was open a little. She leaned over and whispered to me, "He's a lot grumpier'n Ah thought he would be," she whispered.

Meanwhile, this dumb guy was trying to look tough, so he swaggered up to him, and said in a real, fake macho voice, "Yeah. Yeah, I guess I do got something to say to you." I winced at his awful grammar.

"All right then," Mr. Logan said in a chillingly calm voice. "Hit me."

The kid looked surprised, and then tried to laugh it off. Logan poked him in the shoulder, hard. "Hit me," he insisted. The guy kept laughing, and half-turned, but then he suddenly whipped around again, and punched at Mr. Logan's face.

Mr. Logan caught his fist, and quickly pushed it back, whacking the kid in the nose with his own fist. He wobbled away, howling.

"Who's next?" he asked calmly. Unsurprisingly, no one volunteered.

"All right, let's get to the lesson, you bunch of weak pansies," he said, almost happily. It seemed beating up a kid helped him relieve stress.

"Today, we're going to be testing your memory skills," Mr. Logan said. Out of nowhere, a tiny model of a maze popped up into the air, with the correct route outlined in red.

"You have ten seconds to memorize this course. Go." Immediately, everybody stampeded forwarded, nearly knocking me down and trampling me. In my struggle to avoid being stomped on, I didn't get a chance to even look at the maze, much less memorize it.

"All right," Mr. Logan said after it had vanished, to a chorus of collected groans. "You memorized it. Now navigate it." And with that, the whole room shimmered, and the walls of a giant maze appeared. I naturally, shrieked and clutched at Rogue.

"What happened?" I gasped. Rogue flinched, and carefully removed my hands. I sort of noticed that she was wearing gloves, and had a half thought about asking her why she was wearing them, but we were both caught up in the tidal wave that swept forward.

"This is an interactive hologram room," Rogue shouted in my ear. I squealed. It was like Star Trek!

I ran ahead and entered the maze. I saw one girl right in front of me who apparently hadn't bothered to memorize the course, because she just disappeared through one of the walls.

"You have five minutes. Hurry up," Mr. Logan's voice rang out.

The maze was incredible. It was solid to the touch, but had an odd feel. Something like what I'd always imagined solid air would feel like.

Stupidly, I decided to run off on my own, forgetting that all those people had actually seen the diagram, whereas I hadn't

However, after a couple of minutes, I was bored. I kept running, however, and I kept not running across anybody. After a second or two, I began to worry that everybody had already made it out. I opened my mouth to call out for someone, when a klaxon horn went off.

I had just a second to feel disappointed, before a set of spikes from either side suddenly launched out at me.

"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHH!" I howled

I slowly opened one eye, then the other. I was standing with one foot off the ground, crouched, with my hands around my ears, probably to block out my own scream. I was fine. There were no spikes.

I looked around. There were six other people, in various contorted positions, with looks of horror on their faces. Apparently I hadn't imagined it.

Mr. Logan was scolding a girl. "I asked you to navigate the maze, not to just phase through it," he said sternly. She wailed and turned her back, pouting. He shrugged, and then turned his attention to us.

"Because you didn't stick with the group," he called out. "You've all been impaled by the spikes. You're dead. This time, I expect you'll pay attention to what you're doing."

Yes, you heard right. We're doing it again!

This time I played it smart and stuck with the group, and I managed to get through it just fine, along with everyone else. So Mr. Logan decided to kick it up a notch. He added machine guns to the next one.

Any semblance of order we'd had broke up as everyone scattered, screaming. I got hit by one of the machine gun blasts. It wasn't much worse than getting hit with a paintball, but it was definitely to be avoided.

At long last, it was lunchtime. My stomach needed food after that grueling exercise, and my poor weak legs needed rest.

I finally managed to blunder down to the cafeteria (why is this school so big again?) and quickly found Jubilee with a huge crowd. She excitedly waved me over, almost hopping up and down. After getting my lunch, I joined them, and we all went outside.

Jubilee was definitely a firecracker. She seemed to have limitless energy, and bounced here and there, with exaggerated mood swings. She seemed to have enough energy for the both of us, although Heaven knows when I get chocolate in me, I can out-energize anybody.

I was sitting with Jubilee, when the same arrogant guy who had knocked my chair over passed by. I nudged her.

"Who is he?" I hissed at her. She scowled through a bite of her sandwich. "That's Benny Kalita," she said in disgust. I watched in amazement as she talked, chewed her sandwich, and blew a bubble with her gum all at the same time.

"He's the stupidest, fake-angstiest loser in the entire world," she clarified, taking another bite and blowing another bubble. I wondered if that was even a word, fake-angstiest.

"He can use his powers to push things. You know, not pick anything up, or anything like that, just push. Like he did to your chair. It's a type of 'limited telekinesis," she said, making exaggerated quotes with her fingers.

"Benny Kalita . . ." I mused. I made note to remember that name. Nobody pushes me without making a permanent enemy!

Travelling Army Brat

Thanx to all my wonderful reviewers, Marauders4evr, and my faithful reviewer, **The Painted Lady!**

The Painted Lady- I'm glad you like the review button! The review button is your friend I like torturing my characters with complicated math problems. I hope the Danger Room simulation was up to parr?

Marauders4evr- I updated! Yay!


	5. Chapter 5

_**Mimeo**_

_A/N-Sorry for the wait folks, but my stupid laptop erased my entire chapter, and I had to rewrite the whole thing. Fortunately, this fic improves with aging! ;)_

_Disclaimer- What, do you think I'm gonna suddenly say they're mine? Not happening. ;) _

_Chapter 5: Piercings and Punishments!_

"We're going out tonight. Wanna come?"

"Sure."

And that was all it took. What would we be doing? Oh, seeing a movie, flirting with some guys, getting some stuff to eat. That's all. Nothing big. Of course, I'm the girl who hasn't stirred from her doorstep in three years.

What was happening to me? Since when did I have a backbone?!

A girl named Kitty, who I recognized as the walks-through-walls girl, grabbed me and dragged me through her door – literally.

"I've already been through your closet, and you've got absolutely nothing to wear," Kitty professed proudly. I glared at her in outrage.

"You went through my closet?" I asked in disbelief.

"Sure did!" she giggled. She dug through her own closet, while I stared at her back in mute outrage. "You'll just have to borrow some of my things for now."

"My clothes are fine," I choked out.

"Uh-huh," she said absently. She swirled around, and tossed an outfit on the bed. "Ta-da!" she shrieked. I nearly fell over.

The outfit . . . it was so – so PINK! And, my god, so REVEALING!! Ultra, ultra pink; and an ultra, ultra short miniskirt. It was HIDEOUS!

"I can't wear that!" I stammered. Kitty gave the outfit an appraising look.

"Yeah, I guess it is a little much for a chicken-liver like yourself," she said casually. Thank you Kitty. I'll just go drown myself now.

She went back to digging through her closet, tossing random things past my head. Finally, she straightened up, looking triumphant.

"I've got it!" she proclaimed.

"Is it contagious?" I asked sullenly. Kitty obviously didn't get the joke, because she just gave me a funny look and kept on rambling about the perfect outfit, anybody could wear it, even me, it was hard to match up to my skin color, blah blah blah.

"Are you even listening to me?" she asked hands on hips.

"Sure. Why not?"

"All right. Look out, cause this is perfect. It'll go absolutely wonderfully with your skin, and it'll make you look _sooo_ cool!" she squealed. She whipped out a metallic silver jump suit that looked like something one of _Charlie's Angels _would wear.

"And what is this doing in your closet?" I asked skeptically.

"I wear it sometimes," Kitty sniffed. "Now put it on!"

I gave a tortured sigh, and began to pull the skintight thing on. I couldn't imagine where Kitty had gotten it, unless her mother had given it to her. It looked like it belonged to an era long past. (The eighties!)

Once I had managed to wiggle into it, Kitty immediately grabbed my arm and plopped me down in her desk chair, coming at my face with . . . Oh horrors! Makeup!

After an eternity of poking and prodding, brushing and yanking, she spun me around roughly/

"Open your eyes!" Kitty demanded. I cracked open one eye, then the other, and stared at the mirror.

"Well, what do you think?" she demanded nervously.

"I'm . . . not sure," I said honestly.

My lips had been carefully coated with silver lipstick, making me look like I'd been drinking molten metal. Somehow, she had managed to yank out a couple eyebrows without me noticing, too. Blue eyeshadow was swept over my eyelid; and over my dark gray skin, it looked very odd, to say the least.

"Perfect," Kitty said proudly. She yanked me up by the hand, and pushed me into the middle of the room. Without bothering to use stairs, or some other more conventional mode of transportation, we sank right through the floor.

We landed right in front of the door, me reeling and gasping at the unfamiliar sensation of becoming one with a hardwood floor.

The other girls were there already, some cocking an eyebrow at my imitation of a fish out of water.

Jubilee was wearing some atrocious conglomeration of yellow, black and pink that has never been seen before, and should never happen again. Rachel's outfit was only extraordinary in how little of it there actually was. There were a few other girls I didn't recognize, but I began to realize that there was nobody who was any less ridiculous looking than me, so I began to calm down.

I realized that Rogue was nowhere in sight.

"Psst!" I hissed at Jubilee. She looked over in surprise. "Where's Rogue?" I asked. She waved a hand.

"She'll be down in a sec," she said dismissively. She then blew the biggest bubble I have ever seen with her gum. Her whole head disappeared behind it, only for it to recede gracefully without getting a single sticky strand on her clothes.

Finally Rogue descended the stairs. She was wearing a low-cut top, with a sparkly scarf wrapped around her neck, and a long green corduroy jacket on, which brushed her ankles.

A chorus of, "About time!" greeted her, as she joined us.

"Come on, let's go," Jubilee said, and we all trooped out the door

* * *

"I am very ashamed of you!" Mrs. Jean scolded. 

Jubilee rolled her eyes and smirked, blowing another bubble. Rachel crossed her arms over her chest and glowered. I just sat, and tried not to think rebellious thoughts.

"You all should have known the danger in going out like this. Especially you, Karen," she scolded.

I lowered my head, feeling my face turn a dull purple. I was trying not to get angry, but I was feeling more and more inclined to breaking her neck. Why did she feel it was necessary to single me out? I wasn't the only visibly mutated person in the school. They let Mr. Wagner leave the school grounds!

"Kurt Wagner is an adult, and quite capable of making his own decisions," Jean admonished. I turned even darker purple, and concentrated on trying to burn a hole in the carpet with my glare.

"I'm very disappointed in you girls," she continued. "Your punishments will be decided in the morning. Go to bed."

We all got up, muttering rebelliously, some of us tripping because of our wedge heels (me).

I carefully fingered the shining hoops in my ears. A smile grew on my face. Whatever punishment they dealt out, the ear piercing I had gotten, as well as the beautiful silvery hoops; were worth it.

I slammed into my room and changed. It felt good to get out of the sweaty, too tight clothes, and put on my loose, comfy pajamas.

I flopped onto the bed, and I was asleep in seconds.

When I got up the next morning, I felt like the living dead. I could just barely drag myself out of bed, and my head pounded rhythmically. Thank God it was Saturday.

I dragged myself down to the kitchen, and made myself six cups of coffee. I was on my third cup, when a boy walked in.

"You drank all that?" he asked in amazement, looking at the discarded cups.

"Yep. I'm gonna drink all this too," I said.

"Coffee-mania," he muttered. I frowned at his back, but it was true. Coffee is mainly what kept me alive those three years locked in my house.

"Hi Bobby," Rogue yawned. They shared a quick kiss, Rogue pulling away first. I was beginning to notice her dislike of being touched, and it was bugging me. I would have to ask her about it. But not now. This was coffee time. Not talking time.

"Did you drink all of that?" Rogue asked in disbelief. I nodded absently, finishing the fourth cup, and reaching for my fifth. I was just about to start drinking, when Bobby's hand closed around my wrist.

"I think you've had enough," he said, starting to disentangle my finger's from the cup.

He never saw it coming. One minute he was stealing my coffee, the next he was on the floor, me sitting on his chest, drinking the last dregs of the fifth cup.

Rogue was giggling out loud. "Serves you right, Bobby," she snorked. "Never try to take a lady's coffee away from her.

Bobby pushed me off. "She's not a lady," he grunted. "Ladies don't sit on guys!"

I downed the last of my coffee in one gulp, and then dashed out, calling back a merry, "Bye!"

In doing so, I turned around, and so I didn't see Glasses man coming up in front of me. I crashed into him, and was knocked to the floor.

"Oops, sorry!" I giggled. He presumably glared at me, but I couldn't really tell through the glasses.

"Karen Meisenheimer?" he asked.

"Yeah?" I said cautiously.

"I'm here to tell you what your punishment is. Follow me," he said. Without waiting for a response, he whirled around on his heel, and strode off. I had to trot after him to keep up. We walked into a large laundry room, jammed full of washing machines and empty bottles of Tide.

"Laundry. Wash it," he snapped out. He then turned on his heel and walked out.

"Who jammed the pole up your ass?" I muttered.

"I heard that!" he called. I turned purple, and quickly started to get to work. I was almost instantly lost. I was swamped in a sea of baskets, full of specific people's nasty clothes. Almost all of them had detailed instructions of how they wanted them to be washed.

"Jean Gray," I read one label. After a moment, I began to chuckle. The chuckle grew into a laugh, and soon blossomed into a full-out evil cackle. I knew how I was going to repay Mrs. Jean!

Still mwa-ha-haing evilly, I shoved all of her clothes into the laundry, and then dumped six cups of bleach in with them. Cackling with delight, I slammed the door shut, and pounded the on button. It started with a gentle whir.

"Punish me, will you?" I cackled, rubbing my hands together. "I'll show you! I hope you don't like having a colorful wardrobe!"

I looked at the rest of the massive piles of laundry, and sighed. This would take all day.

I was finally released from the laundry room for lunch. As I passed by the kitchen, I saw Jubilee up to her chin in dishes. I grinned and waved at her. She blew a bubble at me.

When I reached the tables, I saw Rachel gathering dirty dishes, wearing an apron and a hairnet. Honestly, she was more covered at that point than I have ever seen her before.

It was the same everywhere I went, girls up to their elbows in grunt work. Rachel swung by, took my empty dishes, and asked casually, "So what did you get?"

"Laundry work."

"Ah, I see." She hesitated a moment. "You know, I put a bottle of purple stuff in with my clothes. That's the detergent that I like being used on my clothes. Is – is that too much trouble?"

"Not at all!" I fibbed. _"Oops. I was wondering what that was. I guess I shouldn't have thrown it out!"_

"Okay, great!" Rachel chirped.

Just then, Miss Munroe walked over. "Karen, I think it's time to be getting back to work," she said, giving my empty plate a pointed look. I scowled at her back sullenly as she walked away. Outside, thunder crackled, just out of nowhere.

"Wow, Storm must be really mad," Rachel commented, taking my plates. "She usually doesn't just randomly change the weather. I mean she – Whoa! Shit! Oh wait, nevermind," she spewed out. I gave her my best, "What the hell?" look.

"What the hell?" I asked her.

"Oh, it's nothing. It just looked like your pupils disappeared for a second," she said.

"People say that a lot," I said, my already sour mood souring. "But that's ok. Feel free to poke fun at my eyes anytime you want."

Rachel rolled her eyes at me, and I returned to the torture chamber that is presently filled with people's unwashed underwear. Gross!

Travelling Army Brat

Thanx to all my wonderful reviewers, Marauders4evr, Icydragon14, and my faithful reviewer, **The Painted Lady!**


	6. Chapter 6

_**Mimeo**_

_Disclaimer- We've already gone through this!!! _

_A/N- I appreciate it when people put this story on their favorites, or alert list, but please leave a review with it!_

_Chapter 6: The Caffeinator_

I was eavesdropping. I know its wrong, and stupid, especially when you're eavesdropping on a telepath, but I just couldn't resist. I had been innocently walking down the hall, when the Professor's impressively carrying voice stopped me in my tracks.

"I know it isn't fair, but I have faith that you will someday be able to control it," he said in a calming voice.

"Bollocks," a female voice snapped. "Even you don't remember me. I saw you. When I walked in the room you were just about to ask who I was, until you scanned my mind!"

Now this was fascinating. I crouched by the door, and tried to think quietly.

"I can't make any friends. When I turned thirteen, three days after my birthday, my mom kicked me out of the house, because she didn't remember who I was! Miss Ororo tried to show me out the door the other day, telling me I had to register before I came here! I can't fix it, Professor, I just can't!"

Now I was feeling guilty, but this was far too interesting to leave. Apparently her powers made everybody forget they had ever seen her, met her, even talked to her.

A thought struck me. _I _could have met this girl before, and I wouldn't even remember it!

And then _another_ thought struck me. I was learning nothing from listening in, because the moment either of us left, I would forget everything I had heard. This thought disturbed me to no end. I didn't like the thought that I couldn't control what I remembered or forgot.

"I could do anything I wanted," the girl continued. "No consequences. Nobody would remember me, nobody would think to punish me, they wouldn't even know I existed. I'm the closest thing to being invisible there is, besides actual invisibility."

"I don't like the way this conversation is going," The Professor said a little sharply.

"It doesn't matter," she said flippantly. "You won't remember it anyways."

Professor Xavier sighed heavily. "Karen, you might as well come out," he called. My face turned dark purple, as I slowly opened the door, and walked in.

The girl who had been talking turned around, her face dark red with fury. "You were listening!" she spat. I hung my head.

"I've met you before," she said, a little more calmly. My head jerked up, and I stared at her, horrified.

"Don't worry, it wasn't anything worth remembering," she sneered. "I just refused to tell you my name."

"What is it?" I asked timidly.

Her face twisted. "Don't worry about it," she said. "You won't remember it anyways."

I took a moment to examine her. She looked like she was trying to overcome her mutation with outrageous clothing. Orange, red, purple, and pink do not belong together unless it's in a sunset or sunrise. She had long brown hair done up messily, held in place by three chopsticks. Her lipstick was bright red, and her eyes were filled with smoldering resentment.

She was trying to make herself unforgettable.

I tried not to feel pity. She wouldn't want it, anyways. She seemed like a, "give me an answer, or get out of the room," kinda girl.

She abruptly got up and left the room, muttering under her breath, "Sick of this conversation anyhow,"

I looked at Professor X. "What were talking about?" I asked weakly. I couldn't believe I'd just spaced out on him like that.

"I'm not quite sure," he murmured, confused. "You may go," he said, gesturing to the door.

Something pricked at my memory, but nothing was forthcoming, so I got up, and trudged out.

* * *

"You're weak," Mr. Logan said. I raised an eyebrow at him. 

"This doesn't have anything to do with the fact that you're phenomenally strong, does it?" I asked sarcastically.

He shook his head. "You're weak," he repeated. I just scowled.

Professor Xavier had decided, from the depths of his wisdom and kindness (are you sensing sarcasm yet?) that it would be a good idea to start training with Mr. Logan one on one. Mano-A-Mano. Up close and personal.

Hence, the insults.

"It's not my fault I was cooped up in an itty-bitty house for three years without even being allowed outside!" I protested.

"Uh-huh. Start running," he said, chomping on his nasty cigar.

"Excuse me?" I asked.

"You see those orange cones down there?" he asked. I squinted, and could just barely make out a tiny orange speck in the distance. I nodded silently. "Run to them and back. No stopping, no walking. Go."

I glared at him, my mouth open. It was September, the air was getting nippy, and I didn't have a coat. "You expect me to run in this kind of weather?" I squawked. "I don't even have a coat! This is cruel and unusual punishment! I haven't even done anything wrong!!"

Mr. Logan half-smiled. "Trust me, kid, after two minutes of running, you're going to be glad you don't have one. Now get going!"

I hesitated. Mr. Logan looked dangerous, but I was just desperate enough to do it.

"No," I said, crossing my arms and turning my back.

He surprised me by throwing back his head and laughing.

"It's been a long time since someone's had the guts to say no to me, kid," he said, wiping an imaginary laughter tear. "Most of the time, they're too busy pissing their pants."

He said this last part with a distinctively more threatening air. I glanced at him nervously, my arms falling to my side.

"Now, if you're not running by the time I count to three, I'm going to chase you down, with my claws out," he threatened. Like magic, a handful of blades popped out of his knuckles.

He didn't even get to one before I took off, running like mad.

The cones were so far away, though! And the funny thing was, they didn't seem to be getting any closer. In fact, they almost looked like they were moving back, as though they were taunting me!

But no, I passed by the first cone. Now I had to swing to the right and run for the other cone, pass it, and then head back.

Like Logan said (I no longer considered him worthy of the title of 'Mister'-- at least not to myself. I'd call him Ray Charles out loud if he wanted me too.) I was quickly glad I wasn't wearing a coat, although earmuffs would've been wonderful.

My ankles were beginning to wobble threateningly, and my calves were beginning to do things I hadn't thought possible for them to do. Like, apparently they were turning inside out.

The nippy air was burning my throat. All right, I'll just say it straight. I was miserable, and I was only half done.

Logan was smirking at me, I could tell from all the way across the field, it was that big of a smirk.

"Someday, I'm going to hire somebody to throttle him," I promised myself. Then the image of Logan sending away my assassin, who would be pissing his pants, came to mind.

I noticed that I had gained an audience. Jubilee and Rachel were standing well away from Logan, and staring at me.

I nearly dropped to my knees, but I still had a ways to go, and the image of those shiny claws popping out of his hands was still fresh in my mind.

Finally, I reached them, and dropped on my face, moaning.

"Sheesh, it was just a mile," Rachel said. "You can't honestly be that weak."

I considered decking her, but I didn't want to be reduced to a blithering moron, so I just tucked my face in the dirt and moaned again.

"Come on, get up," Jubilee said, offering me a hand. I glared at it balefully, but took it, and slowly hefted myself up. Then, pretending I wasn't sore in the least, I walked back towards the building, going past Logan on the way, who scowled, and shouted, "Tomorrow at the same time!" I winced and rubbed my ear. He was right next to me, why would he yell?

I had been expecting to be sore for hours, but instead, I felt the soreness disappear, to be replaced by a warm, pleasant sensation. Dismissing it, I walked inside.

I was instantly pushed back outside by Mrs. Jean. "We're going shopping," she explained briskly. "Do you need any clothes?"

"I – I need a few, but I don't have any money," I said, trying to navigate my way back inside.

"I'm buying, come on," Mrs. Jean commanded. "We don't know what you want, so you have to come."

As it turned out, it didn't matter what I wanted.

I wanted the sheets that had van Gogh's _Starry Night_ on it. Kitty told me no, it was dumb looking. I won on that one, but nothing else I liked was bought.

"Hey I like that top!"

"Oh my god, you would actually wear something that frumpy?!"

"Umm . . ."

"Ooh, I think this would look great on you, Karen!"

"What is it?"

"It's a shirt, dum-dum."

"Where's the rest of it?"

"This is all there is."

"Oh God!"

As it turned out, most of the shirts I got barely even existed. I think I got three shirts that I could actually stand to wear out of the ten that were bought.

The pants were another matter entirely.

"What size do you wear, Karen?" Mrs. Jean asked.

"I wear a four," I said proudly.

"Ohmigod, I had no idea you were that fat! No wonder Xavier put you on that special exercise routine with Logan!"

That was Rachel, of course.

After we were finally done shopping, I was emotionally and physically drained. I had thought running for Logan was hard! These girls were in a league all their own for personal torture.

I dragged my purchases up to my room. I stripped my bed, and put on my lovely artful new sheets, and then flopped down onto it, wrinkling it instantly.

I didn't get to enjoy it very long, some blonde headed jerk popped my door open, and said in a squeaky voice, "It's time for dinner!"

When I got down to the table, I noticed everybody was staring at me. Well, not everybody, but everybody I knew. Including Jubilee, whose jaw looked ready to leap off her face and onto the table.

I wiped my face self-consciously. Why were they staring at me like that?

Jubilee spoke up. "Bobby told us about the outrageous amounts of coffee you drank this morning. Shouldn't you be dead?"

"I just had six cups!" I protested.

"An hour later you had three more cups," Kitty said. "Seriously, shouldn't you be having a stroke right about now?"

I scowled and put my plate down, setting my . . . drink, next to me.

"Ohmigod! She's got _more_ coffee!" Rogue cried. I clenched my fists. Like magic, every girl at the table leaned forward at the same time to examine the contents of my cup.

"Would you look at that? It's black, too!" Jubilee said.

"If you're done trampling on my personal life," I muttered.

Jubilee rocked back and looked at me solemnly. "Karen, I have decided that you shall no longer be called your given name. From this point on, you shall be called Coffee; after your obsession."

"It's not an obsession!" I protested. In vain, however, because I could see every girl at that table rolling the word in their brain, and thinking they liked it. I poked at my food sullenly.

Of course, just who should pop up at that moment except a certain Benny Kalita, just coming over to make my life miserable!

_Of course_ one of the girls had to hop up and tell him this exciting new story. _Of course_ he would have to turn around and give me a disgusted glare. _Of course_ I would have to be an idiot, and instead of ignoring him, take my rapidly cooling coffee, and dump it over his head.

_Of course_ one of the teachers happened to be hanging around, (Mrs. Jean– who else?) who was just all too thrilled to take me to Professor Xavier's office.

I sat outside his office, waiting for him to get done talking to someone, so he could punish me already, and get it over with, when I heard raised voices.

"Professor, I just can't let her go. It's too dangerous, and she's the weakest member of the team. It's too dangerous."

"It will be fine, Scott. Rogue can handle herself, besides, there's nothing particularly dangerous about this mission."

"We can't be wasting our time babysitting her. She's not going to be able to help, and she'll just get in the way. You know what a screamer she is. Remember what happened at the Statue of Liberty?"

I had heard enough. I snuck out of the office, trying to think quietly. Apparently the Professor was too involved in his argument with Mr. Whoever Scott is, because I wasn't called back.

Poor Rogue, being dragged along as an inconvenience. I hoped she had a really stellar performance, so Scott would think better of her; if she even got to go.

So naturally, it was Rogue who ran up to me, eyes shining, joy radiating off of her.

"Guess what?" she squealed. I blinked at her. This was the most animated I had ever seen her.

"What?" I asked weakly.

"The Professor said I can go on their next mission! It's not supposed to be a big deal, just recruiting another mutant, but I get to go! They're finally starting to trust me with responsibility! I finally get to wear the suit!"

My heart broke a little. I couldn't tell her about that conversation I had just overheard, not now, not ever, not after looking at her joyful face.

"Logan's real happy for me too," she chattered. I honestly had never seen her so happy looking. "Logan says if I get into trouble, he'll have my back, so I'm not worried even a little bit. Scott's been acting a little weird, but he's probably just nervous. He can't be nearly as nervous as me!"

She turned to look at me, and laughed. "I'm sorry, _Coffee_, I've been babbling," she said, smirking a little when she used my new, involuntary nickname.

"We're going to be gone for about two days. We're leaving in the morning. I told Jubilee that, and she about cried. Said something dumb, like, 'My baby's growing up!' "

I couldn't help but laugh at that one. The unwelcome conversation from before was seeping out of my memory.

"Well, I gotta go," Rogue said. I realized we were stopped right outside her door. "I need lots of sleep so I'll be in peak performance tomorrow!"

"Night Rogue," I said.

"Night – Coffee," she laughed.

* * *

Travelling Army Brat 

I just really wanted to give Karen a nickname in this chapter. If anybody thinks its dumb, feel free to tell me, but please also put down a suggestion for a new one!.

Thanks to Marauders4ever – Don't worry, I'll be unveiling _Coffee's_ talents or lack thereof soon enough!


	7. Chapter 7

_**Mimeo**_

_Disclaimer- We've already gone through this!!! _

_A/N- I appreciate it when people put this story on their favorites, or alert list, but please leave a review with it!_

_Chapter 7: Strange and Interesting Plot Twists!_

_Coffee_ caught on, and became more widespread than my real name. In fact, more people knew the nickname Coffee than knew me!

"Hey Coffee. Wanna meet us for lunch?"

"Hi Coffee. Looking good,"

"Hey, Coffee, do you think you could help me with my geometry homework? It's really hard and crap."

"Hey, you're that new chick, Coffee, ain'tcha?"

"I've never even seen you before!!" I exploded. "How do you know who I am?!"

"This weird girl in a yellow trench coat told me to watch out for a girl with gray skin whose name is Coffee," he replied.

"Gah!" I whirled around and stormed off

Benny was standing in front of me, eyebrow raised. I snarled a little and tried to go around him, but I felt like I was pushing against a solid wall in the air. I gave up and snapped out, "What do you want?"

"Coffee, huh?" he snickered.

"Shouldn't you be doing something else? Like re-coloring your hair? It's starting to get a greenish tint to it." His hands flew up to his hair, and a look of sheer horror passed over his face. I doubled over laughing.

"You really do color it, don't you?" I wheezed in between laughs

"Monkey turd." He spat

"Fish face." I shot back

"Numbskull."

"Pizza face."

"Butt muncher."

"Poisonous poodle feces."

"Monkey butt!"

"Snot brain."

"Coffee freak!"

"Oh, I'm so hurt!"

"What in the world are you two doing?"

"Cram it, ape!"

"_You're_ an ape!"

Of course Bobby Drake just _had_ to get involved. And THEN of course . . . it turned into a full-out pillow war.

"Take it back, boot-licker!" I shouted, beaning him in the face.

"Not a chance, gorilla!" Benny bellowed, tripping me up by tangling my feet in his pillow. And then both guys proceeded to try and stifle me, by pushing the pillows on my face.

"Do you surrender?" Bobby shouted.

"Mmph!" I cried, muffled.

"I think she said no," Benny said wickedly.

"What in God's name are you three doing? And why are you doing it without me?" Rachel asked.

"We're having an orgy!" Benny laughed.

I popped up, shrieking, "Eeewww!" Even Bobby looked horrified.

"Dude, you just don't make jokes like that!" he spluttered. "You just _don't!_"

"What? Why?" Rachel asked. "It sounds cool to me."

We all paused to stare at her. Benny muttered something about needing to do something upstairs, and slid out of the room as fast as he could. Bobby made a similar excuse, and was similarly gone.

Finding myself alone with the succubus, I squeaked out an excuse, and headed the same way.

I grinned for a moment, but then blinked, and slapped myself in the cheek. I had been having _fun_ with the Benny monster! I had to make sure that never happened again!

"Jerk," I muttered, just to keep in practice.

"I certainly hope you're not referring to me?" a big booming voice to my left said. I whirled around in embarrassment.

"Oh, no! Of course not Dr. Hank! I'm sorry, I was just practicing," I winced at how stupid that sounded. He raised a furry blue eyebrow at me.

"Practicing?"

"It's a long story," I muttered.

He laughed. "Most stories are," he said, tapping his nose. I didn't see anything funny about that, but I laughed too, just to be polite.

Something like a watch beeped on his wrist. He looked at it in surprise, and then said, "Excuse me, I need to take this call,"

Call? It was a watch, wasn't it?

I went into the kitchen, and started making myself some coffee. I hesitated, but the ducked in the fridge, and raided the candy supply there. I grinned in triumph, pulling out a Hershey's bar, and dropping it in my coffee.

Dragging Jubilee down to the rec. room, I made her watch a movie with me, while we gorged on popcorn.

"And the point of the movie is that the Phantom was totally redeemable!" Jubilee said, waving her arms.

"No it's _not_! The Phantom stinks! Who likes a guy who's so vain he hides away the rest of his life because of a sunburn? Now, that Raoul . . ." I said, trailing off.

"Yeah, just think of something to say about him. No? Nothing? Of course not. Because there _isn't_ anything to say! He is _soo_ boring. I like someone with a little angstiness!" Jubilee said snobbishly.

"You would!" I said, bopping her on the head.

"Hey, you guys! They're back!" Bobby yelled.

For a moment we just stared at each other, and then leapt off the sofa at the same time. "Rogue's back!" we yelled simultaneously. We barreled down the hall towards the entrance.

"God, be careful!" Ms. Munroe was saying. We rolled to a stop.

Everybody was knocked out. Ms. Munroe and Dr. Hank were the only ones standing. Glasses man, Mrs. Jean, another man I didn't recognize, and Rogue, were all being carried in on stretchers. For some odd reason, Benny was sprawled out on the floor. I slowly walked closer. He turned his head and grimaced. Blood was smeared across his teeth. I started to hyperventilate. They all looked dead.

Dr. Hank bounded over, and picked Benny up. "Broken rib, at least," he murmured. He whisked him away.

For a moment, everything slowed down, and then sped up. Rogue was lying there pale and lifeless. Her bare fist was clenched around a clot of bright blonde hair.

I looked at it for a moment. I had just realized, I had never seen Rogue's hands before. The nails were neglected and raggedy, decorated with hangnails.

There was blood on her face. Part of the white streak in her hair had been ripped out, taking a chunk of scalp with it. There was a mark on her face shaped exactly like a large handprint.

I snapped out of my reverie of shock. The sounds of a panicking Jubilee washed over me.

"What happened? What's wrong with them?" she shrieked over and over.

"We're not sure yet," Dr. Hank murmured, gently pushing her aside.

I looked over at the strange man. His hair was reddish brown, raggedy, and long, reaching just past his chin. He had what seemed like a permanent five o' clock shadow. He was wearing a long brown trenchcoat. His hands were clenching the gurney in a death-grip.

Just then, his eyes opened. Red on black eyes. Strange, like mine were. Less crazy though. He peered up at me, and said in a breathy voice, heavily laden with a French accent, "Is Remy dead?"

I tried to summon up some enthusiasm, but I felt numb. I said blandly, "You're in Xavier's School for Gifted Youngsters."

"What's a pretty _cheri_ like you looking so unhappy for?" he asked softly. I looked at him, startled, but Hank swept in.

"Gambit, no flirting while you're injured. Come on, we're going down to the medlab."

Hank and Ms. Munroe started wheeling all of them downstairs, Jubilee in tow, who was bawling. Bobby awkwardly patted my shoulder.

"It'll be okay," he said quietly, going off and following Jubilee.

I stood in place, a valid question bouncing around in my head.

_What in hell happened here?!_

Alas, it seemed that I would never find out. The remaining teachers had their mouths firmly shut, none of the students knew anything, and Jubilee was as close-mouthed as the teachers.

I was fine. Just fine. I wasn't hurt, Rogue and I weren't even that close, and a hot French guy had just told me I was beautiful. What more could I want?

I was standing in front of the TV, pounding away at Dance Dance Revolution. I was panting and stomping in a blur. I was breaking a record, I just knew it. Then I heard one of the controls under my feet break.

Okay, maybe I overdid it. Just a little bit.

"Overeager much?" _Someone _calledout. I hunched my shoulders. I was going to have to pay for the game.

"I'm fine," I called out, forcing cheerfulness into my voice.

"Sure y'are. And thas why you just wrecked an innocent video game," he called back, amused.

I clenched my fists. Stupid tears were suddenly pouring out of my eyes. It wasn't like I was sad or anything. I was fine. If I could just stop crying . . .

My visitor shifted, alarmed. "Stop crying!" he almost begged. The tears only came faster.

"I'm fine," I insisted, hating the wobble in my voice.

And that's how I came to be crying on the shoulder of an almost complete stranger.

Notice how I'm not giving out names?

* * *

I lay in bed, staring at the ceiling. My brain was so full of uncomfortable thoughts, I couldn't even close my eyes, without seeing Rogue lying there, looking dead. Or Benny, also looking dead. Or HIM; coming to comfort me. 

"Gah!" I yelled, throwing my stuffed Garfield at the ceiling.

I got up and left my room, leaving Garfield on the floor, neck twisted at an odd angle.

Going down to the kitchen, which was quickly becoming my refuge, I scooped myself some ice cream. I sat at the table, focusing on the patterns in the marble top. They were pretty. At some points, the lighter sworls reminded me of the veins standing out clearly on my skin.

Spoon goes down. Comes back up to mouth. Bite off ice cream. Repeat. Wait, there's no more. Get up, put bowl in the sink. Maybe wash it. Probably not.

Walk up to your room. Warm up after brain freeze. Almost there.

"Aah!" I screamed. I was flung back all the way down the corridor, and crashed into the wall, a painting falling down and catching the corner on my head.

I whimpered and curled up. Hearing a slight whoosh, I looked up.

"Rogue?" I whispered hoarsely. "You're all right? Should you be up here? What are you – urrk!" That was the noise I made as my wind-pipe was compressed onto itself, Rogue's gloved hand closing around my throat with astonishing strength.

"Don't scream," she whispered harshly, and then she flung me back down to the other end of the hall.

I landed on my hands and knees, bouncing back in the air, doing a flip, and then landed again. Hard.

Rogue was coming back down after me. I might have just hit my head particularly hard, but it looked like her feet were a good foot off the ground. It occurred to me that I never did find out what her powers were.

I squared myself, and kicked her in the gut. She didn't even flinch. So I ran the other direction.

Screaming.

It only lasted about two seconds before her hand grasped my hair, and slammed my head into a wall.

I was truly out. I couldn't see, and everything was buzzing. Nothing made sense. Why was I lying here?

The most ferociously loud bang I had ever heard went off next to my ear, drowned in the alluring scent of brimstone. A pair of yellow eyes peered into mine. Mr. Kurt. Good, he would save me. A loud processions of bangs, each one further away, dashed my hopes.

The most uncomfortable sensation in the world was starting to brew in my stomach. I felt like I was being pulled inside out, and my eyes were being burned out with red-hot pokers.

Strangely, the pulling increased, while the pain in my eyes decreased. I physically could feel myself turning inside out, pulled back, and being forced through something much too small.

With a loud bang, I was suddenly three feet above the ground. I dropped to the ground, slamming my abused head once again.

Ah. Mr. Kurt must have teleported me to safety after all. Bless you, Mr. Kurt.

"Bless you Mr. Kurt," I murmured again, losing consciousness.

* * *

I slowly woke up. I was staring at a metal ceiling, which was all too familiar. Somehow, I'd gotten hurt again.

I gripped the edge of the metal bed I was on, wincing as I felt it twist easily in my grasp.

"Damn cheap bed," I muttered. I sat up, and looked around, gasping in dismay. The whole room was filled with students and teachers alike, all out cold, covered in various assorted bruises, and stuffed into casts.

I slid off the table. Something caught the corner of my eye.

A tail. I had a goddamned tail trailing behind me.

I tentatively reached for it, and yanked, hissing in the unexpected pain. I looked, and kept looking, my eyes getting bigger and bigger. I was covered in bluish-gray fur, tail included.

So I threw my head back and screamed.

* * *

Travelling Army Brat 

Hey y'all! I'm not sure I'm happy with the title of this story. It comes into bearing later on, but still, I just don't like it anymore. If anybody has a suggestion, or wants me to leave it as is, please let me know.

PLEASE REVIEW! Please?


	8. Chapter 8

_**Mimeo**_

_Disclaimer- I do not own the X-Men. Big shocker there _

_A/N- I'm thinking about putting next chapter entirely in Rogue's perspective. Also, I'm considering changing the title. Lemme know what you think, 'kay:D_

_Chapter 7: What Rogue Did That Night._

"What do you mean, secondary mutation?" I asked suspiciously. Dr. Hank sighed, and ran a furry hand down his face.

"No, that was a bad example. It's more like a dormant mutation," he explained.

"Again, what do you mean, dormant mutation?"

"It means that you've always had this ability, it's just never shown up before. On anything. Not even my special scanners," he said mournfully.

"I don't get it. I've always had the ability to sprout a tail?"

"No. I've interviewed some people about the incidents of two days ago—"

"What?! I've been out for two whole days?"

"—And it seems that immediately after coming into close contact with Kurt Wagner – You know him, blue fuzzy, has a _tail"_ he put special emphasis on the word tail. I glanced at the limp thing hanging behind me, "– you teleported on your own, and immediately fell unconscious. Sometime later, your physique changed to as it is now. Congratulations, Ms. Meisenheimer. You now have a new appendage!"

"Is this permanent?" I squeaked. Dr. Hank spread out his furry arms and shrugged.

"I have to confess, I don't know. It's been a long time since I ran into this particular mutation," he said.

I nodded wisely. "What is my particular mutation?" I asked a minute later. Dr. Hank looked at me in surprise.

"Why, Mimicry, my dear. You can "borrow" the powers of others, so to speak."

My head spun. The possibilities loomed, huge and frightening. And then a thought clicked.

"What happened with Rogue?" I asked, flat-out.

He sighed once again, refusing to meet my gaze. "It's rather complicated," he murmured.

"Better get cracking, then," I said humorlessly.

"Do you know what Rogue's powers are?" he asked. I shook my head. "Yes, I was afraid of that. I'm afraid Rogue is a little reclusive. She doesn't really like her powers. They're the ability to steal a person's life-force, their energy, their memories, and in the case of a mutant, their powers."

I gasped. The gloves, the standoffishness, the self-enforced distance . . . It all made sense now.

"Well, the mission was to try to recruit a powerful mutant to come to this school. Unfortunately, she was a bit more aggressive than anticipated. She easily took out the senior members of the team, using super strength, and the ability of flight. Rogue was the only one left. This "Miss Marvel" was just about to take Rogue out, when she latched onto her ankle.

"They had a great battle, Miss Marvel trying to pry Rogue off, Rogue quickly getting stronger and stronger, Marvel getting weaker and weaker. Storm – er, Miss Munroe; recovered in time to find them both in the air, pulling out each others hair. She couldn't get either of them to let go," he said ruefully.

"So, she's got Marvel's powers now?" I asked.

"Usually, the effects are only temporary, though. We have all confidence that the psyche of Miss Marvel will fade over time, but for now, Rogue has the woman's memories and powers"

I didn't know what to say. What _could_ I say? Gee, sorry about your new split personality problem, Rogue!

Dr. Hank gave me a cunning look. "I noticed the damage you did to my table, Coffee," he said smoothly.

Good grief, even he knew about my nickname. I swore, I was going to strangle Jubilee with her own gum.

"Yeah, so?" I asked sulkily. "S'not my fault you use inferior metal for your tables."

"Coffee, I would have to try _really really_ hard to bend it the way you did. Look," he said. He walked over to the table, and with a colossal effort, wrenched it into place. I stared.

"It didn't take any effort though!" I protested. "It just warped under my hand, I swear!"

"I know it did," he said smugly. "You were in close contact with Rogue, no? Obviously, you mimicked her superstrength!"

I just stared at him.

"I figured it out earlier, actually," he said, gesturing vaguely. "You see Benny over there? You woke up in a delirium yesterday, and tossed him across the room. Nearly busted another one of his ribs. It's a pity too, because he was up and walking the same day we brought him in."

Hmm. For some reason, I just couldn't summon up any sympathy for him.

"Rogue hit him when we brought her in. Poor kid bit his tongue bloody, and busted a rib." Dr. Hank continued innocently.

All right, now I felt bad.

Dr. Hank sighed yet again, running his hand/paw through the fur on his head. "You must be tired, Coffee, and I know how light hurts your eyes. Why don't you go upstairs to your room, and take a nice long nap?"

I hesitated. "You'll tell me if Rogue wakes up, right?" I asked.

"I swear on all Twinkies everywhere," Dr. Hank said, a mischievous look on his face. I rolled my eyes, I couldn't help it, but made no further protest. I slid off the table, and walked towards the elevator.

Once I was inside, I rested my forehead against the cool metal, then straightened out again. My reflection, distorted and warped, glared back at me.

I sucked in a breath. My eyes had also changed color, and turned yellow. But instead of a deep, rich gold color like Mr. Kurt's, they were this nasty, light yellow color, like I had jaundice or something.

The veins on my skin had disappeared, and my skin (fur, whatever!) had a decidedly blue cast.

I started shaking slightly. I looked even more hideous than before. Don't get me wrong, the look worked for Mr. Kurt, but on ME, with it all watered down and mixed up with my original mutation, I looked monstrous.

BOOM!

I sucker punched the elevator wall, trying to get rid of the image. But I had forgotten about my borrowed strength. The door now had a huge dent in it

And just like that, the door opened, and I was staring at the hall that contained my room.

I rushed to my door, opened it, and slammed it shut, gently. My stuffed Garfield was still lying on his side, neck twisted at a painful angle, glaring at me accusingly.

I tried to walk past him, but my stupid new tail got caught on his ear, and dragged him with me.

I unhooked the useless thing, and stared at it. It lay in my hand, feeling like so much dead weight. But it was alive, there was blood pumping through it. My blood. My tail.

"What use are you?" I asked it. Naturally, it didn't answer

I stretched out my left arm, only to see the tail slowly stretching out in perfect mimicry of my arm. I put my arm down. The tail went limp at the same time. I stretched out my arm again, and this time wiggled my fingers. The pointy tip at the end of my tail wiggled in a similar fashion.

I tried to move it without moving my arm. No luck. But I lifted my left arm, and it moved without any command from me at all."

Powers. I could imitate other mutations. Was it just physical mutations, like tails and fur? Could I mimic Ms. Munroe's weather control?

I had a lot of questions that needed answering. But first and foremost, I needed sleep. I wrapped the useless tail around my waist, stopping just short of tying it, and got into bed, falling asleep almost instantly.

* * *

"Coffee?" 

"Oh God!" I shrieked, tumbling out of bed. I felt something sharp slice into my cheek, leaving a stinging line of pain. It was the stupid tail again

"Coffee? Are you all right? I would've waited until later, but you asked me to inform you when Rogue woke up, so –"

I was awake in a flash. "Rogue's awake?" I gasped, my hand over my cheek. "I'll be right down!"

When I said right down, I meant it. I didn't even change out of my pajamas. Jubilee was already down, and was talking to an irate looking Rogue.

"How is she?" I asked breathlessly. Jubilee turned to say something to me, but stopped, with her mouth hanging open. After nearly a minute of silence, she finally remarked mildly, "You changed your look,"

"No kidding, Jubes," I muttered.

I glanced at myself, and groaned silently. I was shedding my fur. In huge patches. I already had some bald spots, where my trademark veins were visible.

I was fortunately distracted from myself by Rogue's attempt to blunder by us.

"Rogue, stop sweetheart, what are you doing?" Jubilee asked frantically. Rogue gave her a hard look, and pushed past.

I braced myself. Hopefully, I still had some of Rogue's strength. I put my hands on her shoulders, and she was forced to stop.

"Rogue, come on girl, maybe you want to –" Jubilee started, but Rogue interrupted her.

"Rogue?" she asked, frowning. "Why do you keep calling me Rogue?"

Jubilee faltered for a moment. I felt a look of dread plaster itself on my face. "That's your name. Rogue. It's what we've always called you," Jubilee explained.

"My name is Marie. Marie . . . Danvers," Ro – Marie said. Her voice faltered on her last name.

Jubilee gave me an alarmed look over Ro—Marie's head. "Sweetie, Danvers isn't your last name," Jubilee said softly. "It's that woman's, Miss Marvel. Carol Danvers. Remember?"

"Right," Marie said. "I don't know what I was thinking. Of course. I'm just a little confused, is all." She easily shook me off (my superstrength had vanished) and started to walk out of the room. A full length mirror at the other end of the room caught her attention, and she walked towards it, skirting the bodies of our unconscious teachers.

She stared at her reflection a good long time. Finally, she called out, her voice cracking, "What happened to my hair?"

I exchanged a look with Jubilee, and we went over. Rogue was touching the white stripe.

"Uh, you mean your stripes?" I stuttered out. Ro – er, Marie, nodded

"Uh-huh," she said. "I mean, didn't they used to be . . . bigger?"

I blew a breath of relief. Jubilee did likewise. "Yeah, they used to be bigger, Ro- Marie. But that nasty whore—"

"Jubilee!" I squeaked.

"Ripped out your hair. Don't worry about it though, you got some of hers, too."

Ro – Marie – THAT GIRL swayed a little, and shook her head. "I need a drink," she muttered. She flew up into the air, accompanied by short gasps from us earthbound mortals, and flew out the door, presumably to get said drink.

"Should we let her alone up there?" I asked Jubilee.

"Definitely not," Jubilee stated. We hurried over to the elevator, and began to try and follow Rowhatsername. It wasn't hard. Her trail was loud and clear. Broken items, and terrified people.

"Where did she go?" I asked the whitefaced, trembling boy. He silently pointed down the corridor, towards the kitchen.

When we got there, SHE was standing at the kitchen island, guzzling cheap beer, and lighting up a cigarette. "Either Rogue, or this Carol thing had really bad habits," I muttered to Jubilee.

"It's Marvel, trust me," Jubilee muttered back. "Rogue wouldn't normally touch the stuff."

We just stood there for a minute. How exactly does one go about taking things away from someone who has super strength?

Rogue tossed the can onto the counter, letting it fall among it's brethren. How she managed to down three beers in the short time she was out of our sight, I'll never know, but there it was. She turned to us. "I'm thinking about dying my hair blonde," she said conversationally. "How do you think that would look?"

I recalled the blonde hair she had been clenching in her fist, and winced. But before I could answer, Rogue frowned, and started pulling her gloves off. "Dammit. Why am I wearing these dumb things anyway? They're hot and itchy!" she complained.

"Rogue, you're wearing them so you don't accidentally drain someone!" Jubilee shouted, her face going pale.

"No I . . ." Rogue started. Then her eyes narrowed. "Yeah, you're right. How could I have forgotten? I could've sworn my mutation was flight and superstrength for a minute. Am I just going nuts?" she asked.

"No, you're just tired!" I fibbed quickly. "Why don't you go to bed? You'll feel much better when you wake up."

"Yeah. I'll do that. You guys s-s-s-sure are nice. My name is Rogue. What's yours?" she asked, slurring her words. Without waiting for an answer, she continued. "Nice to meet you. You look familiar. Maybe I've already met you. Ma-a-a-aybe-e-e."

"Geez, you'd think with super-strength, she wouldn't be so much of a lightweight!" Jubilee said, as Rogue put her head down on the counter, dead drunk.

Naturally, we had class the next morning. Apparently, most of them woke up from their friggin' COMAS when we dragged a thrashing, howling Rogue down to the medlab. No, excuse me. Most of the teachers woke up from their friggin' COMAS when they were bludgeoned by flying bodies (Jubilee and me).

I woke up that morning to a giant, sun-induced headache, and a huge pile of my remaining fur lying on my bed.

It was dreadful. The whole bed had a layer of gray fur on it at least an inch thick. Almost afraid to look, I checked to make sure my unwelcome hitchhiker hadn't fallen off too. No, my tail was still firmly attached to my behind. Pity. I cleaned the horrible mess up grudgingly (with a huge vacuum cleaner)

I somehow managed to drag my poor, sleep deprived self up to class, severely wanting coffee.

"Coffee, listening to me would be greatly beneficial to your poor grade in this class," said Mr. Scott, who I discovered was our very own Glasses man

"I'm dead. Leave me alone," I moaned.

"Well, I guess its good that you're dead. The dead can't get in trouble for sleeping in class. The dead can't get sent to Professor Xavier's office. The dead can't be given extra housework. And the dead can't be punished for bleaching my wife's clothes last week."

"The living thanks you, the dead doesn't care," I said from within the depths of my arms (and tail, how weird is that?)

Everybody in class snickered. Mr. Scott sighed. "Just pay attention," he snapped.

I mumbled vaguely that I would do my best.

Unfortunately, some dumb kid decided that he needed to talk to me. He obviously didn't know death when he saw it.

"Did you really bleach all of Jean's clothes?" he whispered harshly.

"Yes," I muttered. My brain slowly processed this information, and suddenly, I realized that Mrs. Jean was Mr. Scott's wife. Funny world that.

* * *

I had learned that the title, 'Psychology' class was a bit deceptive. It was actually a whole class period where that evil little man, Professor Xavier, tried to psychoanalyze a big group of people. Being a telepath, he was usually fairly successful. 

"Coffee, is something bothering you? You seem disturbed," he said.

AARGH! Even HE knew the stupid nickname! I was going to destroy Jubilee.

"Nothing's bothering me," I lied sweetly. Dumb idea. I mean, come on Karen, the man can read your mind.

So he just raised an eyebrow, and said calmly, "Whatever it is, it certainly must be important, if you are willing to lie about it."

I seethed quietly, while everybody else snickered. I snapped my tail at them. Unfortunately, I still couldn't do it without moving my left arm too, so I just ended up looking dumb, and gathering more laughs.

The Professor looked at me strangely. "Coffee—" Grrr! My name is Karen! "I think you would benefit greatly if I temporarily suspended your lessons with Professor Logan."

Praise be! The higher ups were finally seeing sense!

"And started you on lessons in how to properly move your tail."

Why me?!

"I don't think this is going to do any good," I grumbled to Mr. Kurt, the only other resident of the building who had a tail.

He just laughed at me. "It will do plenty of good. Oh, by the way, after this, Dr. McCoy wants to see you down in the medlab. Something about x-rays."

Oh, great. It seems like there's no end to the poking and prodding these people do to me.

"All right. Lift your tail. Any direction, any way, just move it," he commanded. I scowled, but obligingly whipped the thing to the right.

He gave me a strange look. "What are you doing?" he asked incredulously. I glared right back at him.

"I'm moving my tail, just like you asked" I whined. He broke out into loud laughter.

"Why were you swinging your arm around?" he asked between snickers.

"Because," I sighed with my charming teenage impatience, "I can't move my tail without moving my arm. And vice versa."

"Uh-huh," Mr. Kurt said, still giggling like a moron. "Now try moving it _without_ windmilling your arm around,"

I tried. I really did. But I got the feeling as the lesson ended, that Mr. Kurt was really disappointed in me.

* * *

Travelling Army Brat 

I like this chapter. I think it had just enough of Rogue, and just enough of Coffee in it to balance it out. I'm thinking of changing the name of this story, please let me know what you think, maybe leave some suggestions (hint hint)

Thanks to **Darkraya, darkheartedmage, -zi-tok-, and marauders4evr**. You guys rock! Keep reviewing:D


	9. Chapter 9

_**Mimeo**_

_Disclaimer- I do not own the X-Men. Big shocker there _

_A/N- I appreciate it when people put this story on their favorites, or alert list, but please leave a review with it!_

_Chapter 9: Who am I? Why don't I know?_

_Who am I? Am I a beautiful blonde with a killer punch? Am I the reclusive Rogue? _

It sucks not knowing.

Carol's memories are so strong. I am sometimes almost completely convinced that I am indeed Miss Marvel. But I look in the mirror, and I don't see the beautiful blonde Carol worked so hard to be. I see Marie D'ancanto's lonely eyes staring back.

And yet, I don't remember much about her at all.

I walked past a room on the men's wing. I knew that this was the Wolverine's room. I also knew where he kept his special stash of cigars. It was little things like that, which reminded me. Reminded me of Rogue.

My little brother . . . no. I didn't have a brother. Carol had a brother. Marie was an only child.

It was so hard to sift through the memories, especially the first few days. When all the memories were jumbled together in a giant mess.

But slowly, I started sifting through them. I had to remember, Rogue had the draining powers, Carol had the flight and invulnerability. Also, a strange encounter with an alien race called the Shi'ar, but that was much too complicated a story.

Every memory that had something to do with a power manifesting or being used, I slapped a label on it. "Rogue's memory," or "Marvel's memory." But it didn't help even a little bit with my problem. I still don't know who I am. True, I can think much more clearly now, without all these jumbled lost memories tumbling through my brain.

But I still don't know who I am.

Everyone seems convinced that I'm Rogue. Maybe I am. Lord knows, this is her body. But I know more about Carol than Rogue right now.

Having two psyches embedded in your brain does interesting things to you. My mind forced me to distance myself from both of them. Their personalities are like two separate people from myself.

I have even less of an identity, because I no longer identify with either woman. I am nothing without one or the other.

But I can't let either of them go. My mind, while seeking to protect me from this unnatural lodging of two very separate people in one body, has ignored the root of the problem.

One of them has to go. And I want it to be the right one.

If I am, actually Rogue, than Marvel is a parasite, and she needs to be gotten rid of. The same goes for Rogue.

But I can't stand the idea of Carol's personality being expelled either, come to think of it. Rogue already killed her once. It would be like killing her again.

And yet, I had a unique opportunity here. I could see the flaws in each of these women through the eyes of the other.

My pity for Marvel only extends so far. Because, seeing Marvel's memories as Rogue, I can tell she was an evil, manipulative woman. Ice cold, murderer, and many other unpleasant things. Marvel didn't mind any of it. She felt she was perfectly justified. But Rogue was disgusted.

On the other hand, Marvel was disgusted by Rogue. She was childish and weak. She had the power to take over the world, and yet she cringed in corners, and cried a lot.

In a way, Marvel was a lot like Scott.

Whatever happened, I promised myself, I would never go back to being the whimpering puppy Rogue was. I wouldn't scramble to get out of people's way. I wouldn't deprive myself of fun, just so people could _feel_ safe. I would make them get out of MY way!

At any time, I could go from acting all Rogue-ish, to becoming the cold, efficient woman Carol is. It scares Rogue's friends. I barely recognize them. My mind is filled with Carol's contacts and alliances.

One of the worst is Rogue's boyfriend. Robby, or something. He's absolutely terrified of me, and yet he pretends he isn't. It's honestly pathetic. So I told him yesterday to step off. He just looked at me like a puppy that's been kicked. And I really wanted to kick him. But no, Xavier would get pissed at me killing one of his students (which is what would happen if I kicked him), so I just tried to be as mean as possible.

Whether I'm Rogue or Carol, I don't need a womanly boyfriend like that anyway.

I have to know.

I can't be all gung-ho about this anymore. They told me her personality should be fading by now. It's not. Both memories are as strong as ever.

Maybe, when Rogue was holding onto Marvel's ankle, Marvel's personality almost completely supplanted Rogue's? Maybe everybody's wrong, and it's Rogue's personality that's going to disappear?

I lit up my cigarette, and puffed expertly.

These lungs, these young, flexible lungs, aren't used to cigarette smoke. I thought every teenager smoked. Why do I feel like I'm going to barf? These lungs choked up the smoke.

What do I do? I can't just _not_ smoke! I've been doing it since I was thirteen! Stupid prissy Rogue, never smoking. Bet she's a virgin too.

Oh yeah. She couldn't touch people. Virginity's enforced, there.

Flying is interesting. It feels new and old, at the same time. Something thrilling, something mundane. I've never flown before, I fly all the time.

I wish I knew which family to call my own. Is it the stiff family down south? Or is it the happy, mid-American family, tramping on corn, and proud of their beautiful, super-hero daughter?

I nearly ran into this one chick with gray skin and black hair. I've been seeing a lot of her lately. Usually, I just give her a mean glare, but today I was feeling ice, so I smiled at her. She waved at me, a pointy tail creeping over her shoulder and waving in sync. I barely repressed a shudder, and hurried on my way.

And then I had to hurry, and find a bathroom, because I was about to break down. I slid inside the nearest one, and slammed the door shut, locking it.

"Oh GOD!" I cried out. "What did I do to Bobby?"

I sobbed in the fetal position. I was a nothing. I wasn't Rogue or Marvel. I was some worthless thing, a waste of time and space. Soon, the real Rogue and Marvel would come and kill me for my presumptuousness at pretending to be them.

Memories were flying through my brain, and NONE OF THEM WERE MINE! What was I supposed to do? I couldn't handle the overload. A person only has one mind for a reason.

I shrieked and howled in the bathroom, slamming on walls, leaving holes in them. I no longer had a boyfriend to run to. I had effectively estranged all those who would be my friends. And memories that WERE NOT MINE were tormenting me, taunting me with what I could not have.

I broke the bathroom door down, and walked out, glaring at everybody. They couldn't know what it was like. They had no idea. I didn't even have an idea! I didn't even know who I was!!

I bumped into something solid. Something with a French – no, Cajun accent.

"What is the matter _cheri_? Someone so beautiful should not be so upset!"

He barely managed to finish his sentence before I grabbed his collar and dragged him forward.

"I have every right to be upset!" I shrieked in his face. "I've got two people stuck in my brain, both of them yelling at me! Carol really wants to kill you, so if I were you, I'd do less talking, and more listening!"

He gave me as sympathetic a look as one can when a woman practically has him on his knees by the throat.

"Rogue had the most god-awful powers, absorbing people's lives, powers, memories, and killing them in the process. I can remember how it feels! But I can remember everything Carol felt too . . ." I was babbling. I knew I looked insane. I was _going_ insane. I couldn't keep this up. The mental strain was unbearable.

I don't remember much after that, except that there were a lot of tears (just like I promised myself there wouldn't be) and that the swamp rat was the one comforting me.

* * *

Travelling Army Brat 

Not a very action-packed chapter, but still very emotionally charged. I think this is how Rogue was probably feeling in the comic books. And yes, I'm a Romy fan! ;)


	10. Chapter 10

_**Mimeo**_

_Disclaimer- I do not own the X-Men. Big shocker there _

_A/N- I appreciate it when people put this story on their favorites, or alert list, but please leave a review with it!_

_Chapter 9: Burning and Freezing Alive._

"Remarkable. Absolutely remarkable."

I squirmed impatiently. "What's remarkable?" I asked.

"Incredible. I just don't even have the words to describe it!" he continued, staring at the monitor screen, where the results of my x-rays were displayed.

"Try harder!" I exclaimed.

"I can't even begin to –"

"Dr. Hank!" I interrupted in a whiny voice. "Just tell me what it is!"

"The tail is not a natural part of your body. Your body has had to make certain compensations for that. As it is, your tail's nerves have been wired in with your arms nerves and muscles. They both receive the same stimuli from the brain."

"Huh?"

"Your arm and tail are receiving the same messages from the brain."

"Oh. So you mean I'll never be able to move my tail without my arm?"

"Probably not."

"Oh."

* * *

I had a nice delusion, heading back into classes. I somehow thought that, my power being mimicry and all, that I would begin imitating all these powers around me.

Of course not.

I accidentally/on purpose knocked into the girl I had seen bringing her pictures to life. Oh, I was so excited, too. Nearly ran somebody else over getting to my seat. I quickly drew a rough sketch of a flower, and elaborately waved my hands over it.

I actually expected something to happen, too! But of course, my flower remained two-dimensional.

No matter how much I pointed, waved, threatened, or shook it, it still stubbornly remained a part of my paper.

Maybe the drawing was too crude. Maybe it needed to be more realistic looking. Armed with that happy thought, I elaborated on my flower, until it looked almost as good as the real thing (_I _thought so, anyway)

I held my breath, and then willed it to peel itself off the paper, and become a living thing.

It twitched, shifted, and then . . . The paper blew off my desk from an errant breeze. I shifted, and swept it off the floor. The flower was just as papery as it had been two minutes ago.

In the halls, I decided to try for one of the more obvious mutations. The girl who could change her skin color was my next target.

She was walking down the corridor, covered in tiny multi-colored flecks, like someone had whipped different colors of paint at her. I half-turned, while still keeping my eye on her, making sure I ran into her.

"Ow! What the hell? Watch you're going, moron!" she snarled at me. I got a split second to look at her, after she had crashed into me, and I was honestly mortified. She had turned to my skin color, dark gray, with veins everywhere, but my eye color (which was still vaguely yellowish) was planted on her cheek. My clothes color had changed her skin color too, at least where it was visible. My shirt was cut higher, and so there was a crooked line of red just under her collar bone that continued to underneath her shirt.

She stuck her nose into the air, changing her colors to what they were before, and stalked off.

I was still thrilled anyways.

It didn't last long though. Once again, I tried my best, and once again, my best wasn't good enough. My skin color didn't change, not even once. Although the very last patch of fur on my arm fell off.

My frustration was growing. What good was there in having super-powers, if you couldn't USE them?!

When psychology rolled around, I marched up to the Professor, and exploded, "I can't use them!"

He raised an eyebrow, but instead of institutionalizing me, he merely said, "You have only begun using your powers three days ago. It is not surprising that you still have little control over them."

I growled a little.

"If you want, I could organize another special training class for you –"

"No!" I burst out. "Nononononononono! I don't need a special training class, I really don't!"

The other eyebrow went up.

"Nevertheless," he continued calmly. "I think you should benefit from such a class. Since the first time you demonstrated your powers was with Professor Kurt, we will combine that with your other training class with him."

It wasn't fair. I couldn't even _think_ mean thoughts at him!

So, I ended up in the danger room, training with Mr. Kurt. It was a jungle scenario. It was hot. It was sticky. How could a hologram be hot and sticky?

Worst of all, Mr. Kurt kept yelling at me to use my tail. If I could use it conveniently, I would, thank you very much.

Wait a minute. Why are there laser cannons in a jungle?

"Gaah!" I shrieked, leaping out of the way of the blast. Mr. Kurt _naturally_ just teleported away. I ended up doing my own frantic version of the one person tango, hopping around like a maniac to keep from getting fried.

Mr. Kurt shouted something at me. I paused for just a minute to turn and see what he wanted. Big mistake.

There was another cannon looking me right in the eye. I had just enough time to draw in a breath and start to scream, "I hate you Mr. Kurt!" before I was caught in the crossfire.

* * *

"You do seem to have a propensity for landing yourself down here, don't you?" Dr. Hank joked.

I sat stiffly, glaring at him.

His chuckle died down, and he quickly cleared his throat and changed the subject.

"What happened down there, anyways?" I mumbled through a stiff jaw.

"You were caught between the crossfire of the two cannons. Normally, they only heat up to a maximum of ninety-nine degrees. It's usually the force that gets the students. But between the two of them, it had the capability to get up to 184 degrees."

"Shouldn't I be dead?" I squawked.

"Well, Mr. Scott turned the simulation off before it could get that hot. You did get a little crispy though, didn't you?" he observed.

I winced and touched my crackly hair.

"It's nothing serious though!" he laughed. "A couple of days and a really good conditioner and shampoo, and you'll be as good as new!"

I looked at his fur critically. "You have any brands you could suggest?" I asked.

"Strangely enough, I do," Dr. Hank said.

* * *

"Whoa, what happened to you?" Bobby asked.

"Somebody mistook me for a marshmallow, and tried to roast me over an open fire," I said grumpily.

"With thighs like that, I can see why they'd make that mistake," Rachel said. I groaned softly.

"Heh! Good one, Rachel," Benny said.

"Shut up, Mr. Glowstick hair!" Rachel commanded.

"Somebody's in a mood," Jubilee sneered.

"Coffee, why do you have a tail?" Bobby asked.

"It's just one of those things," I said, not really feeling like actually explaining it.

They all nodded, as if they actually knew what I was talking about, and went back to their verbal sparring.

While everybody was making jibes at each other, I went off, and slid into a comfy chair, putting my poor sore feet up, and listening to the so-called witty banter behind me.

"You're nasty!"

"That's not what your MOM was saying last night!"

"My mom's DEAD!"

"Dude, your mom is not dead, she was here last week!"

"Be quiet! HE doesn't need to know that!"

I put a pillow over my face and thought about stifling myself with it.

Just then, all the noise in the entire room ceased, just like magic. I heard one after another quietly making excuses to leave, until the only one whose voice I hadn't heard was Bobby's. I peeked around. Sure enough, it was just Bobby . . . and Rogue.

"Bobby, there's no real nice way to tell you this, so I'm not gonna try and pretty it up. I don't love you anymore. I haven't for a long time. So I'm breaking up with you. Have a nice life!"

And then, with a bright smile and a wave, Rogue left the room.

"Rogue wait!" Bobby bellowed. He ran out of the room, screaming her name.

"Get away from me, you little piece of shit!" Rogue screeched. There were several grunts. She was picking him up.

"How could you think that I – Me! That I would _ever_ love a pathetic little piece of shit like you?"

She tossed him back into the rec room. He went flying. She had turned around and left, without bothering to check and see if he had landed safely. He landed on the billiard table. He watched her leave.

It was getting colder.

The room was physically getting colder.

I could see my breath, puffing out in front of me.

I peeked over at Bobby. The cold was coming from him. Ice was spreading on the floor, spreading out and away from him. His eyes were blue. His eyes were always blue. But not like this. His eyes looked like they were glowing, if slightly.

I stumbled over to him, slipping on the spreading ice. "Bobby!" I bawled at him. He ignored me. The ice was creeping up his arm. He was freezing himself. I doubted it was hurting him, but the ice had to be stopped. He was going to freeze the whole room.

I slipped, and fell on my knees in front of him, and I wanted to cry out. The ice was rock-hard, and I was only wearing jeans, and a thin T-shirt.

"Bobby!" I shrieked at him. He turned his head slightly, and gave me a glacial stare (no pun intended).

I shook him slightly. "It's going to be all right, Bobby," I told him. "You have to snap out of this! Look what you're doing!"

Bobby was crying. He was crying, and the tears were freezing before they even fell.

I did the only thing I could think of, and acted as his living tearcatcher. I hugged him.

I hate sounding self-centered, but I was miserable. Ever hugged a snowman without a coat on? Or gloves? Just wearing a T-shirt and jeans?

Ever had it hug you back?

But he was crying. He needed sympathy. It was a good thing he was crying now, knowing how guys tend to bottle up their emotions. But I was freezing to death, and not slowly either. I couldn't let go, though.

Maybe it was good for my burns. My mild burns.

Screw that. I was freezing here. But I couldn't pull away. I was securely trapped in his arms. He had his chin on my shoulder, and he was shaking and shuddering, like he was the cold one.

"What are you two doing?"

"Look at all the ice!"

"Dawg, are you two _kissing_?"

I felt rough hands pulling us apart. I was so cold . . . tears started leaking out of the corners of my eyes.

"Her EYES are frozen shut!" somebody yelled in my ear.

"Bobby, how could you do that? You have an obligation to Rogue!"

I managed to crack one eye open enough to see Bobby's shoulders hunch. "R-Rogue broke up with me," he said.

"So you jump on the first chick you see? Dude, that's sick." Benny, of course.

"I just hugged him," I whispered. My skin was on fire with pain. First I was cooked, then I was frozen. It wasn't fair.

"Benny, shut up," Jubilee said. "She was just giving comfort to a man who's had his heart broken. Something you'd understand if you HAD a heart!"

Somebody wrapped me in a thick blanket, probably because my teeth were chattering like mad. I was slowly warming up though.

"Jake, pick her up, we've gotta get her to her room so she can take a hot shower."

I heard a strange voice grumbling good-naturedly. I opened my eyes, and saw the most beautiful thing I have EVER seen.

Tall, about 6'1. Brown hair with a healthy gold shine. Handsome face. Bow-shaped lips. And get this. His eyes were GOLD!

"Ah ahdi, I ah duh, um heh hehe," I stammered.

"What did she say?"

"I don't know. I think maybe she was just shivering out loud."

My brain died right there, and refused to be resurrected. And without any higher power to check up with, my mouth began to gain a life of its own.

"You're pretty." This was followed by a moment of silence, and then marred by uproarious laughs.

"Um . . . so are you?" he said. It sounded more like a question than a statement, but I was already far, far away in sappy teenage crush land.

"I like your eyes," I said next, followed by the most disgustingly sappy smile ever seen on my face.

"Oh God. Just knock her out and put her out of her misery!"

I was silent for the rest of the time, my brain having finally checked in and slapped me upside the mouth for stupidity.

* * *

I swear, I don't do this on purpose. But once again, I was privy to a lover's quarrel between Rogue and Bobby

Rogue was crying hysterically. "I'm sorry! I don't know what came over me," she was crying.

"Oh, yeah. God forbid you should tell me the truth!" Bobby snapped back. Rogue was silent. "Well, was it the truth?" he asked, his voice hard.

"Some of it," Rogue said finally

"Some of it!" Bobby cried. "Just some of it?"

"Just some of it," Rogue repeated.

"Tell me, oh mighty one, which parts were true, and what parts were not?"

"The part about you not being good enough was Carol. The part about calling you names was all Carol. The anger, was Carol." Rogue said flatly.

There was silence for a minute, and then Bobby's hurt voice floated out. "But the part where you don't love me, and haven't for a while, that was –"

"That was Rogue," she finished.

"I'm sorry Rogue, I can't deal with this right now. I've gotta – I can't deal with this."

Bobby left through the back door.

I waited for a minute, thinking this over, and then decided to talk to her.

"Rogue?" I called.

She jumped slightly, but the quickly composed herself. "It's you. You certainly do have a habit of popping up just where you're least wanted, don't you?" she asked nastily.

Trying to conceal my wounded pride, I said stiffly, "Rogue, about Bobby –"

"I can handle it!" Rogue snapped viciously. She turned and stalked away. Turning a little, still walking, she shouted over her shoulder, "I can handle it."

For Bobby's sake, I hoped she was right.

* * *

Travelling Army Brat

Thanx to my Reviewers, -zi-tok- and marauders4evr! You guys rock:D


	11. Chapter 11

_**Mimeo**_

_Disclaimer- I DO own the X-Men! Ha ha, just kidding. I'm just a poor college student with student loans to pay. Don't sue me, you won't get much out of me! _

_Chapter 11:Journey to the Land of Shopping_

"Girl, you are _weak_. What the hell is wrong with you?"

"If I still had my superstrength, you'd be a whimpering puddle on the ground by now!" I snapped back at Rachel. She rolled her eyes, flipped her hair, and snapped her gum, a habit she seemed to have picked up from Jubilee.

"Uh-huh. Like I believe _you_ ever had superstrength!" she said. "I mean, come on, look at those arms! They're PUNY! And they cost us the game in there!"

Yeesh!

All right, fine. I did sort of cost the game in the Danger Room. But that's because my stupid powers have suddenly become inactive again.

I swear, I tried. I pounced on everybody I could find, trying to copy their powers. And me running around like a chicken with its head cut off somehow managed to distract everybody, and so they all got hit by cannons.

This school has an unhealthy obsession with laser cannons and machine guns!

I had the absolute gall to leap on Logan, too. At least that's what he said it was. It was survival to me! The dude can heal. What better power to have in this school?

Yeah, and some jerk told Mr. Logan what my supposed powers are. And so of course he was yelling random things at me, like back up some chick with super-strength, or teleport over here, and help some guy out.

None of which I could do!

And finally, I pounced on RB (otherwise known as Rachel Byrne, but I'm sick of calling her by her full name!) hoping that if I made Logan really dumb he'd stop yelling at me. She screeched, and flung me off of her, and right over a holographic cliff. Of course, I landed on Logan, who immediately began chewing me out. The RB joined in and also began chewing me out. She threatened to bring me down to a toddler's IQ. I bluffed, and told her I'd just copy her powers and do the same to her.

Then we got hit by cannons.

Dr. Hank is lying. Those stupid cannons heat up to more than just 90 degrees. I was caught in just one beam, and this Coffee has been overheated.

Yes, I decided to just accept the nickname and ride with it. At least I got fame in some form. I am not kidding, the _mailman_ knows the nickname Coffee. He's sorting through the letters as I open the door, and he says, "Oh, you must be Coffee!"

How many people does Jubilee know?! And why did she tell every single one about me?

Having gotten my sore tail (literally) down to the medlab for some stuff to put on my crispy skin, along with everybody else in that particular Danger Room session, I then went upstairs, and got ready for my German class with Mr. Kurt.

Now don't get me wrong, he's a nice guy, but golly he's _pushy!_ All my tests have come back with 'LEARN HOW TO USE YOUR TAIL!' written at the top in red marker.

Great guy. But he needs to learn how to accept a medical report.

I explained it to him. In great detail, inventing things as I went to make it sound more dramatic. And you know what he said?

"So Dr. Hank said you _probably_ won't be able to move it separate?"

"Yep! Guess I better go!"

"Not a chance. You're going to defy medical science and learn how to use your tail if it's the last thing you do!"

Mr. Kurt was correcting some kids pronunciation of _Mach Schnell_! He kept pronouncing it like, Mac Snail. Boom! Coffee was off in the land of frapuccinos and free caffeinated drinks.

_Snap! _I jolted practically out of my seat. Mr. Kurt was smirking at me.

He had whipped his tail in front me hard enough that it had made a loud crack like a whip. He then waved it at me like a hand.

"You see, Coffee? It's not hard. You just gotta try!" Mr. Kurt smirked, walking away, waving his tail at me. I glared at him. Evil little man!

The other students amused themselves by laughing at my expense. I couldn't help but wish I still had my borrowed superstrength.

The rest of class time was spent in the land of snore. Oh well, I'd just look in the textbook for the words we were supposed to learn today. I wasn't doing badly in German yet, I could afford a few F's!

"Oh, and Coffee?" said Mr. Kurt, tapping me on the shoulder with his tail. "Work on the mobility of your tail, wouldja?"

Grr! I'd like to beat him savagely! All right, maybe not savagely, but hard enough to make him cry!

A tap on the shoulder jolted me out of my thoughts. "Hey Coffee? You're going to the mall with us. Beg some money, and come on," Jubilee said, her voice leaving no room for argument.

I argued anyway. "No." I said as firmly as I could. "I'm not going."

Jubilee rolled her eyes. "You didn't have a problem going to the store with Jean," she pointed out.

"That's different," I sighed with irritation. "I don't mind going to a tiny little department store for food, with a talented telepath and telekinetic, who could send attackers through a brick wall. You guys? In a huge, people filled mall? Not so safe, is it?" I said obnoxiously, folding my arms.

"If you don't come with us, then I'm going to fill your bed with fireworks, all night long. No matter where you try to sleep, I'll know where you are!"

"How do I let myself get talked into these things?" I grumbled thirty minutes later, having been ruthlessly stuffed into the backseat of a car, girls I barely knew crammed in on either side of me.

I'm a little embarrassed to admit this, but up until that point, I had never been in a mall before. TV just didn't do it justice. Things always look so much . . . bigger, in real life. Like cars.

I stood for about fifteen minutes, my mouth hanging open. There were so many stores, so many people, so many _guys! _Mall, where've you been all my life?

RB grabbed Jubilee's arm, who grabbed mine, and we all ended up in a creepy looking store after a short game of tug-of-war.

It was a creepy, horrible looking store, filled with lava lamps, and life sized zombie statues. I stared around, open-mouthed. All the lights were tinted red and blue, which was even worse on my sensitive eyes than the fluorescent lights.

RB grabbed a shirt and thrust it at me and Jubilee. It was a black, lacy deal, completely open all the way down to about where the navel would be.

"What do you think?" she squealed. "Isn't it cute?"

"You'll need a shirt to go underneath it," Jubilee observed.

RB frowned at her. "Why would I do that?" she asked.

I blinked at her. "Well, not to mention the fact that it's breaking dress code, I suppose the fact that if you don't wear a shirt underneath it, you'll be in terrible danger of . . . _exposing_ yourself."

RB blinked at me a minute, then ran towards the counter, shrieking, "I'll take it!" I sighed, and was just glad I wouldn't have to wear it.

I browsed around the icky store, but decided fairly quickly that there was nothing in here for me. But just as I was pushing past the fright wigs and _Family Guy _junk, I saw them.

A pair of red, fingerless gloves, winking at me from a peg in the wall. It was love at first sight. They were just so _cool!_ I had to have them I tugged them off the wall gleefully.

The receptionist was an older lady, with her skin sagging over her jowls and under her neck. She was snapping gum, and wearing a _The Simpson's_ hat, designed so it looked like Homer Simpson was eating her head. She gave me a careless glance and muttered a price, before doing a double take, her look of indifference melting into hatred.

She snatched my money, and shoved the gloves at me as though they were tainted. "Don't come back!" she hissed at me, her sharp glance feeling like a physical slap.

Clutching my purchases to my chest, I turned and fled the store without looking back, frightened at her reaction, but not surprised.

I kept running until I reached a bench, and collapsed, feeling the shame beginning to take over. My confidence level, which had been steadily climbing over the last couple of weeks, plummeted back down to zero.

Looking round, I realized I was beginning to attract a crowd. I got up and began to walk away. Attracting a crowd is a bad thing. A crowd can become an enraged mob in a split second. And I had experience with mobs. Mobs were bad.

The crowd kept growing, keeping pace with me. I glanced around nervously, and began to walk even faster. I risked a glance backwards.

Some of them looked like they wanted to hang me on the spot. Some of them looked angry, some mildly irritated. Others just looked curious.

"Keep your eyes on the angry ones," I coached myself. "They're the ones most likely to incite a riot.

"Damned shame, a mutie walking around free like that," someone called. Quicken pace. They can only walk so long before getting bored.

A hand brushed against my elbow. I nearly did a backflip, but managed to keep the scream bubbling in my throat contained.

"Is it real? Is it makeup? Paint?" someone whispered. In answer, someone closer called out, "It's real. It's her skin color."

I broke out into a run. I hate crowds. I hate people. I loathe and detest them. Why had I come? Didn't I know this was gonna happen?

Some of them made the attempt to stay with me, but soon fell behind, moaning in disappointment.

I slid into the next store I saw, a bookstore, plucked a book off the shelf, and propped it in front of my face.

I stayed like this for nearly fifteen minutes, too afraid to venture out. I didn't know where any of the girls were, and I wasn't sure that I'd recognize the others on sight. I looked at the book I was holding. It was an atlas.

I was afraid to leave the relative safety of the store, but I couldn't stand the inaction anymore, and I was beginning to worry that maybe they had all left me behind.

I slid out of the door, and began trying to look for everybody else. I tried every store I could find that I thought Jubilee would like, and scanned the windows of the ones I thought she wouldn't like, but she wasn't in a single one. The mall had too many floors, and it wasn't too long before I gave up, found a bench, and sat down to think.

Suddenly it hit me. Duh! If they were going to wait for me, or even if they were going to leave, they had to go back down to the exit. I would just wait for them there!

I sprinted for the stairs back to the floor level. Every minute I wasted was another second that they could decide to leave me here in.

I finally reached the doors, skidding around the corner, and . . . Oh joy! There they were! Bored and impatient looking every one of them, but still here! They hadn't left me after all!

Jubilee raised an eyebrow at me, as I bent over, gasping, hands on my knees. "Are you quite ready?" she asked coolly.

I glanced at her, but I was too eager to go to take much note of her tone.

"Yes. Let's go. Away. Bad place. Don't like mutants. Chased me." I stammered out. I clenched the precious package in my hands closer.

RB rolled her eyes, and made some remark to the effect of, "Don't be too dramatic there, Caffeine,"

"It's Coffee," I pouted. She rolled her eyes yet again. She must get eye strain from all the times she does that.

The ride home was bouncy and obnoxious. I was once again crammed between two girls I didn't know, who were shrieking and laughing straight in my ear, and jabbing me with their elbows, and making nasty comments about some poor girls hair, then starting the whole process over again.

Jubilee was driving, though I hardly dare call it that. Her eyes were closed, her cell phone going, drinking her soda, putting on her makeup, and basically doing everything _except_ driving. I shrank in my seat. As depressed as I was, today was not the day I wanted to die. Maybe later. Like sixty years later.

"Ohmigod!" One of the girls beside me screamed. Thinking she had probably just found out a guy liked her, I proceeded to ignore her. But then Jubilee and Rachel joined in the screaming. The other girl next to me seemed to have been rendered mute.

I finally turned to look and see what was causing the rumpus.

OH. MY. GOD.

The school was on fire

Never let Jubilee drive in an emergency (or ever) unless you have a deathwish. She instantly floored it, narrowly avoiding the stop sign she just ran. For a moment we were in a shallow ditch, but then she pulled us back out, and we were back to swerving crazily on the road.

As Jubilee pulled into the drive way, we all flung the doors open before she had even come to a stop.

It wasn't as bad as it looked. It was mostly the lawn on fire, plus a part of the roof, which was choking up thick clouds of black, thick smoke.

Rogue staggered out onto the lawn. She was carrying a piece of the Professor's wheelchair. She looked at us. She screamed.

She flung the chunk of pipe at Jubilee with deadly force.

* * *

Travelling Army Brat 

Yay! Points for a weird chapter, right? Right? Crickets chirp Yeah, whatever. It was a great chapter, admit it!

Thanks to Marauders4ever, The Painted Lady, and –zi-tok-, my wonderful reviewers. Keep reading! There's even better to come!


	12. Chapter 12

_**Mimeo**_

_Disclaimer- I DO own the X-Men! Ha ha, just kidding. I'm just a poor college student with student loans to pay. Don't sue me, you won't get much out of me! _

_Chapter 11:Journey to the Land of Shopping_

The destruction of the school wasn't as bad as it looked. It was mostly the lawn on fire, plus a part of the roof, which was choking up thick clouds of black, thick smoke.

Rogue staggered out onto the lawn. She was carrying a piece of the Professor's wheelchair. She looked at us. She screamed.

She flung the chunk of metal at Jubilee with deadly force.

But before it had left Rogue's hand, Kitty had already stepped next to Jubilee, and made her untouchable, so that the metal tube-thing just went straight through both of them.

"Now's your chance, Coffee," I told myself, reaching out to the spot where Kitty's arm was. "Mimic a power. Do something useful. Make something of yourself!"

Jubilee charged at Rogue, fireworks sparking from her fingertips. Rogue leaped into the air, and I saw the hackneyed phrase, "faster than a speeding bullet," come to life before my eyes. Jubilee was always just a step behind her, none of the fireworks touching her.

RB raised her arms. Instantly, Rogue dropped to the ground, and began screaming and wailing like a spoiled toddler.

"I – I want!" she screamed, "Gimme! Gimme! Rogue bad! Marvel good! Hurting me!"

All toddlers throw things sometimes. But when the toddler is brushing twenty, and has superstrength, it becomes more of a problem.

Anything she latched onto, she threw, whether it be tables, burning lawn chairs, or people.

"Watch it!" Kitty shouted, as she didn't phase quickly enough, and got knocked back a couple of feet by Mr. Scott.

"All right Coffee!" I coached myself. "Here goes!" I held my breath, and tried to imagine that I was phasing.

I began to feel light and tingly. I must be doing it! I was phasing!

WHAM!

An unconscious Ms. Munroe knocked me back several feet. I shrieked in agony from the ridiculous amounts of white hair creeping in my mouth and up my nose.

I groaned, and decided to just lay there. I was a fool. I had been feeling light and tingly because I had been holding my breath!

With an alarming roar, a big blue blur whisked by me. Dr. Hank had shed his labcoat and glasses, and was bounding towards Rogue at a frightening speed. With a graceful bound, he swatted her out of the air.

I cheered silently. Maybe this would end now, so I could go inside and wash the dirt and ash off.

Then my mouth opened in astonishment. Rogue picked up Dr. Hank like he weighed nothing, and tossed him into the air over her shoulder.

I pulled myself out from underneath Ms. Munroe, slightly alarmed at how still she was.

She was fine, of course. Eyelids twitching, drooling in her sleep slightly.

I had to help. Maybe if I attracted Rogue's attention, and she began beating the crap out of me like she did the other night, I could mimic her strength again.

I picked up a fist-sized rock, and chunked it at her, ignoring everybody else's shrieked, "NO!"s

"There Rogue!" I yelled at her as it bounced off her head. "You think you're so great! But you're not!"

Instead of coming down and facing me mano-a-mano, she just caught the rock and flipped it back at me, hard enough to cut straight through my shoulder.

"Coward!" I shrieked, dancing around in pain. "Come down and face me like a woman! What are you, afraid?"

She took not the least notice of my rage.

Everybody else was taking random pot shots at her, but there wasn't much anybody could _do_. Everybody who could fly had already gotten picked off and tossed in a heap. The super-strength made her nearly invulnerable. And she was up in the air, out of reach of those possessing unusual strength.

Rogue, however, was having a great time, ripping the roof off, and tossing it down on the hapless mutants below, swooping to pick someone up, flying high into the air and dropping them, and other things.

My eyes began to burn a little. "Now's not the time to cry!" I scolded myself. But the burning was growing worse, until I could _see_ it. It was red, darker waves fluttering across it. Tears were falling just from the pain.

I clutched at my head, dragging my fingernails against my closed eye sockets. It hurt so bad. I wanted to claw my eyes out to make it stop.

"AAAAAAAHHHH!" I screamed, throwing my head back and opening my eyes.

The raw, destructive power, which raged out of my eyes at that moment, knocked me onto my back. The world had disappeared into a sea of flashing red, as it continued to burn out through my eyes.

It felt like crying.

The sheer power of the red blast forced my eyelids open, I couldn't shut them. Real tears were pouring down my cheeks, and into my hair.

I was crying.

There was no sound other than the concussion of the blasts against the air. There was no sight other than the redness. My entire world had become these blasts coming from my eyes.

They were like bloody, murderous tears.

I didn't dare raise my hands to my face to try to force my eyelids shut. I didn't dare imagine the kind of destruction I must have been causing.

"Coffee, close your eyes!" someone screamed in my ear.

"I can't!" I bawled back, the tears making rivers down the sides of my face.

Someone had their hands wrapped around the back of my skull. I felt my head being lifted up, and then suddenly, brutally, being slammed back down onto the hard ground. The horrible pounding noise faded away, but the red was still there, it didn't go away . . .

* * *

I woke up. In the medlab. AGAIN!

I sat up, and started to swing over to the side, when I missed a presence behind me. I turned, looked, and then froze.

MY TAIL WAS GONE!

I wasn't sure whether to laugh, cry, or celebrate. The missing limb had certainly been more of an annoyance than a real help in anything, but still, It had been a part of me. A part that was now missing.

I got up and stumbled over to the wall, missing it now as an added help with balance that I no longer had.

I looked in the mirror and gasped.

My eyes were putting off a freaky reddish glow. It was hard to even see my pupils anymore.

Just then (with perfect timing as always!) Dr. Hank walked in. I nearly jumped on him. "What happened? Where's Rogue? What's wrong with my eyes?" I fired at him. He raised his furry hands in mock surrender.

"One at a time!" he said. "You've had a stressful two days –"

"Two days?!" I managed in a strangled squeak.

"And you don't want to overdo it. It doesn't take much to set those eyebeams off, you know," he said pointedly.

"No, I don't know," I grumbled.

"Well, Rogue went nuts. You know that much," he said. I nodded impatiently. "Well, I'm guessing you got near Mr. Scott, and you copied his abilities to shoot lasers from his eyes. Unfortunately, it's a very hard talent to control. I'm going to have to find out why you're controlling it better than him."

I swelled with pride. I was better at it than him! Obviously, that was why he wore the heavy sunglasses all the time.

"So," I asked, still with a puffy ego, "Did me copying his powers save the day? Did I stop Rogue when nobody else could?"

I swear, Dr. Hank turned red under his fur. He quickly found something to do at the other end of the room. I followed, confused. "Dr. Hank?" I asked.

He turned towards me, sighed, and wiped his glasses. "No, Coffee, I'm afraid you didn't save the day. You actually - - - -" Here he trailed off, mumbling so I couldn't understand what he said.

"What?" I asked him, my ego deflating by the minute.

"You knocked down another portion of the wall," Dr. Hank muttered, embarrassed. "And . . . you knocked down a couple of trees."

I stared at him. He was kidding, right?

"On a brighter note," Dr. Hank said, changing the subject quickly. I stared at him glumly. "Touching the subject of your tail, I'm not quite sure about that. I have a few theories though."

"What?" I asked, unable to summon any enthusiasm.

"I'm assuming you can only hold so many mutations at once. You had already had the tail, so when you mimicked Scott's powers, you lost the tail in favor of those. Now, you've demonstrated yourself capable of mimicking two powers at once, but you'd had that one for a while, and it was probably just time for it to go."

I nodded apathetically. It made sense.

"Ah, Scott! Just the person I need to see," Dr. Hank said.

Mr. Scott was leaning on the doorway, looking even more glum than usual. I noticed he was wearing this visor thingy, instead of his more commonplace sunglasses.

"How is she, McCoy?" he asked.

"She's fine, Scott, just fine. She'll be up and kicking again within two days, you just wait and see. By the way, I need to ask you a question concerning young Coffee here."

Mr. Scott turned his head, and I assume he was looking at me, but it was hard to tell, even harder than usual.

"Would you have an explanation of why she would have more control over this power than you?" he asked.

A muscle at the corner of Mr. Scott's mouth tightened. "Head trauma from when I was a boy left me unable to control it," he said stiffly. Then again, everything about the man seemed stiff, including the pole up his butt. "I doubt that the effects of that would carry over to her."

"Ahh," Dr. Hank said, writing something down.

Mr. Scott shoved off the wall, and walked over to his wife, Mrs. Jean, who was grimacing in her sleep, and started quietly talking to her.

"Where is Rogue?" I asked Dr. Hank. "Why isn't she down here?"

Dr. Hank grimaced. "She has to be kept in a special containment cell, because of her strength. The Professor's stated that he doesn't think the Marvel persona is going to fade. When Rogue wakes up, he's going to excise her, so Rogue has complete control again."

"Who stopped her?"

"Professor Xavier, of course."

Of course, I thought to myself. Who else would've been able to do it? Obviously not me. In fact, it sounds like I made things worse!

"So Rogue is going to be her old self again soon?" I asked.

Dr. Hank winced visibly. "Probably not," he said. Before I could ask him what he meant, he had ushered me out, handing me a wrap-around visor that apparently I was supposed to wear at night.

Tchyeah right.

Walking down the halls, I realized I was getting quite a few more stares than I was accustomed to. I didn't understand, until I heard a "Damn! Look at her eyes!"

Ah yes. They were glowing red.

I was heading towards my room, when I realized the hall leading towards it was blocked off, with yellow caution tape and everything.

I peered down farther. At the end of the hallway were clear signs of daylight pouring in. Scattered bits of rubble and brick littered the floor.

I would have to sleep in the rec room on the couch.

Grumbling, I retraced my steps, running into Bobby. He did a double take, then tucked his chin and hurried past. I stopped and turned, looking after him.

"What did I do?" I cried after him. He didn't hear me, or if he did, he ignored me. How rude!

Jubilee, Kitty, and Jake were in the rec room, watching a movie. I glanced at the clock. It was only five o' clock. I could stand a little flick time before kicking them out.

They were watching Phantom of the Opera, of course. Jake's head was lolling back, and he was pretending to be dead.

I gave him a playful kick as I passed. He looked at me indignantly, and slapped my foot.

"Let me guess," Jubilee said, pausing the movie. "You can't reach your room either?"

"Bingo," I said, wondering how many people didn't have beds to sleep in.

"Almost forty people can't get to their rooms. The girls wing took the most damage. Most of the people are in the kitchen now, some people are going to be buddying up, and everybody else is going to come here."

I groaned. And here I thought I was being clever by coming down here!

RB popped in. "I'm going to be _buddying up_ in the guy's wing, if you know what I mean!" she said, winking slyly. I gagged.

"Leave your exploits for the doing, not the telling," Kitty said. "Myself, I am spending the night in the computer lab. I finally have an excuse!" she laughed, clapping her hands.

"Nerd," RB whispered. Kitty just shrugged.

* * *

I could not stay in the rec room. It was seriously WAY too packed! Every square inch of space was covered in slumbering bodies.

There wasn't an open room on the girls floor. I wrestled with my pride for a long time.

"Come on, you do it Coffee!" Jubilee whispered. We were on the boy's wing, about to ask Bobby if we could sleep on the floor in his room.

"Why can't you?" I hissed back.

"Because . . . because I asked you first!"

I ended up going. I _almost_ talked myself out of it.

"It's either this, or the kitchen floor," I told myself. As I found out, even that wasn't an option. It was covered too.

We had managed to wrangle Bobby's room number out of RB, who was grinning and winking at us, like she thought we were going in – never mind. She was just grinning and winking, and nudging me conspiratorially,

I had another attack of pride. I could not, COULDN'T! just walk into Bobby's room and ask if I could sleep on his floor.

But I'm tired! my inner child whined.

I groaned loudly, and raised my fist to knock on his door.

"Come in," he called. If I had been listening, if I had just paid attention, I could have avoided the whole mess. But no, I wasn't paying attention, and so I just opened the door and walked in.

It was BENNY'S room! God!

What was worse, was that he hadn't turned around yet, and he wasn't wearing a shirt. I could see hundreds of tiny little scars covering his back. It looked horrific.

"Uh – I –um – DAH!" I stammered. Benny whirled around, a look of horror on his face.

"What are you doing in here?" he bellowed at me. I cowered, and whimpered.

"You said come in!" I babbled.

"I said COMING!" he roared. My ears were burning. They were going to burst into flame and fall of my head, along with my face.

Without another word, I fled the room, Benny slamming it as hard as he could after me.

I looked at the number on the door. It was the number RB had given me. I WAS GOING TO KILL HER SLOWLY!

"Did he say yes?" Jubilee asked excitedly.

"No," I muttered, running past her.

I didn't get any sleep that night. I sat on the stairs and wondered how he could have possibly gotten those furious looking scars.

Unfortunately, I wasn't alone on the stairs, either!

* * *

Thank God it was Saturday yet again, because I couldn't keep my eyes open. Funny thing. I guess when you don't get sleep, you begin to need it even more.

RB snickered, and said, "You look sleepy, Coffee. Didn't get much sleep last night?"

The plastic fork in my hand snapped.

Why was I holding a fork?

Oh yeah. Breakfast. What a dumb way to begin the morning. The morning should be started with more sleeping, which I wouldn't get anyways, because there was no where to sleep, and God, I didn't mean to walk in on Benny like that, and . . .

"Coffee!" Jubilee snapped at me. "You're rambling."

Oh, lord, did I really just say all that out loud?

"Right," I said. "Rambling . . ."

"Get this girl some coffee, she's about to collapse!" Jubilee shouted dramatically. Immediately, a hot cup was pushed into my hand, and I was partially revived by the scent of black coffee.

Not like gray Coffee. Heh heh, I just made a funny.

"I noticed Benny was in a _really_ bad mood this morning," RB said maliciously. "I wonder why that is?"

I really wanted to plunge the fork in her eye. All the way across the room, Mrs. Jean, with a bandage wrapped around her head, raised an eyebrow at me.

I picked at my soupy eggs. I didn't care what she thought.

"Benny's always in a bad mood, Rachel. You should know that by now!" Kitty said.

RB opened her mouth to say something else, but I gave her my patented "jaundiced-eye glare", and she quickly shut up.

I finished my coffee, and looked mournfully at my empty cup. Nobody seemed to notice. I stared hoping it would refill itself. No such luck.

I shuffled down to the medlab, in hope of contraband candy. If not, Dr. Hank always had some twinkies lying around.

Nobody was there. I shuffled around for a minute, and then decided to explore. Mainly because there was an open door at the far end that I had never seen before.

I slid over to it on the slippery floor, and looked inside. It was another elevator. "Now what are you doing over here?" I murmured. I stepped inside, and looked at the levels, expecting to see three levels, like the other one. But there was only two.

"Funny," I murmured, my finger hovering over the button. I pressed it firmly, watching the doors slide shut on me. Shiny, _nonreflecting_ metal. How was that even possible?

The elevator stopped at a floor I most definitely had never seen before. It was a containment area. Like a prison. People locked inside, staring at me. I began to panic. I wasn't supposed to be here.

A man crawled over to the side of the partition locking him in, and eyed me over. I stared back.

"Now, wot's a young thing like you doing down 'ere?" he asked, with a strong cockney accent.

He had green hair, and his skin was tinted green, mostly brown. He had a smug, arrogant look on his face.

"Hmm. I didn't think old magic eight ball went for the people wit' physical mutations," he said, more to himself than me.

"Umm – uh, uhm," I stammered, my brain going numb. He cocked his head and smiled at me. Little green teeth.

"Don't worry, princess, I don't bite. At least not while I'm be'ind this thing," he said, tapping the clear wall separating him from me.

And still, I could not find any words, just stared with my mouth open. My hand found the button behind me, and pounded it frantically, again and again. My eyes were burning again. I forced them closed until the feeling went away.

A shriek bent the air. I took off running, forgetting about the green man. I knew that scream. I had heard it many times over the last two weeks. It was Rogue. She was locked up down here. Confined.

Professor Xavier. Standing over her, hands spread out on her skull. And next to him, unconscious, an amazon-looking blonde woman. He was getting rid of the Marvel personality. Marvel was _here_. The people down here were criminals, being locked up, and Rogue had been shoved among them.

I ran back. I wanted to go back upstairs, and pretend I didn't know any of this. Pretend it didn't exist.

The elevator wouldn't come, no matter how many times I pounded the button. I sank to the ground crying, with the green man in the background, calling out to me, mocking and laughing.

* * *

Travelling Army Brat

Oooh, long chappy this time! Hope you all enjoy, and of course review. **FIVE REVIEW BROWNIES TO WHOEVER GUESSES WHO THE "GREEN MAN" IS**! (That's an easy one!)

Thanks to Marauders4ever, The Painted Lady, and –zi-tok-, my wonderful reviewers. Keep reading! There's even better to come!


	13. Chapter 13

_**Mimeo**_

_Disclaimer- I DO own the X-Men! Ha ha, just kidding. I'm just a poor college student with student loans to pay. Don't sue me, you won't get much out of me! _

_A/N; Yay, it WAS Toad! Free brownies for all the reviewers! hands out cyber brownies_

_Chapter 13:Overloading Powers and Domestic Spats_

The Professor wanted me to try therapy. He said, based on my "strong reaction downstairs," I obviously had some _past trauma_ to work through.

Bull pies. It's none of his business.

He said Rogue was fine. That's she'd be better than ever in a few days.

I said yeah right. So that was someone else screaming then?

He said therapy would help me work through my anger issues too.

I concentrated on keeping my mind blank, and thinking absolutely nothing to block the Professor out.

"Coffee . . ." Professor Xavier sighed.

"What happened to Benny?" I interrupted hastily. Professor raised an eyebrow at me. "His back," I explained quietly, tucking my chin.

He steepled his fingers and gave me a sharp penetrating stare. "I think," he said slowly and deliberately, putting emphasis on every word. "That if Benjamin has not told you himself, then it is not my place to do so."

I scowled at his desk.

"I expect you to see Miss Jean every Wednesday at 3:30," the Professor stated. "These counseling sessions will provide a double purpose. Jean will also try to help you train your powers." He began organizing his papers, this last statement a clear dismissal.

I made my way to the kitchen, and sullenly kicked a chair out of my way. It wasn't my fault I freaked out in that chamber of horrors! One of my friends shrieking and howling like she was dying, and he wondered if I was upset!

Meh. Mrs. Jean would see soon enough that I didn't need counseling. I'm perfectly fine. I've always been perfectly fine.

* * *

I blasted a red wave into the sky, using a visor Mrs. Jean let me borrow.

"No, no!" she scolded. "You're not even trying to hit the targets! You need to be trying to hit the targets, that's what they're there for!"

"I am trying!" I fibbed. She arched an eyebrow at me.

"You know it isn't wise to lie to a telepath, right?" she asked me, leering at me with that eyebrow of doom. I sent her a mental image of me bleaching her clothes. Her face hardened slightly.

Whack!

A small disk launched itself at me. I ducked out of the way.

"Use your powers!" Jean commanded. Five more spun through the air at me.

Whack-Pop!

Whack-Pop!

Whack-"Ouch!"

Whack-"Aah!"

Whack-"Gah!"

The pops were the ones I hit. The random assorted noises I was making were the ones that hit me. Needless to say, I came away after that therapy session bearing bruises the size of grapefruits.

And of course, when people asked me what on earth happened, I just smiled nastily, and said, "Therapy with Jean. She has a innovative new style, too!"

Mr. Scott shook his head in what seemed like despair.

Professor Xavier sent me a look that said, "You're not helping matters!"

I smiled. Smiling is good for the soul.

* * *

Jake is a sweetheart. Plus, he's gorgeous. I say this, because he helped me out in a really tight spot in the danger room.

This nasty humanoid robotamabob thing was about to stomp on me. This stupid practice visor I was wearing was stuck in the almost closed position, and the blasts weren't enough to even make it wonder if it should tangle with me.

It was probably laughing.

So I get a brilliant idea. Why not just take the stupid thing off, and let loose? Great idea. Except it got caught in my hair. I tried blasting anyways, but the beams were redirected by the visor to straight into the ground in front of me, leaving a bit of a hole.

That I almost fell into.

And so Jake does this perfectly wonderful thing of morphing into a tiger, leaping the broadening chasm, taking out the robot thing, and knocking me away from the hole I was teetering into.

I thanked him very nicely. By drooling on his shoes. Or in this case, paws.

He did this neat thing were he gave me this tigery smile and said, "you're welcome," in the tiger's roaring voice. Jubilee said he was actually baring his teeth and growling at me to get me to stop drooling.

Whatever.

What is with Mr. Logan and cannons, anyways? I'm going to nick a tube of burn salve the next time I'm down there, like in five minutes, and keep it in my room for convenience's sake.

Kitty had a major hissy fit in the dangerous room, or whatever it's called. Mr. Logan said she wasn't using her potential, and she got all snippy.

"What if they need you to phase more than one person at a time during battle, Kitty? What then?" he growled.

"At least I'd be _there_ for the battle!" she fired back.

Logan stood up very straight, and looked her right in the eye. Taking his cigar out of his mouth, he tapped the ashes out onto Kitty's head, and then walked away.

And I came away with a very interesting question. What battles?

I sat down in Dr. Hank's chair, mulling over the question. Sure I understood that we'd have to fight people to survive every one in a while. But _battles_ was a big word.

I turned to Dr. Hank. He might explain it to me. But then again, he might just hem and haw, and use big words that he knew I didn't understand.

Ah well. It's worth a try

"Dr. Hank?" I asked, tugging on his sleeve. He "Mmphed," at me half-heartedly. Truth be told, he was probably sick of seeing me every stinking day.

"What would Mr. Logan mean if he happened to say something about battles?" I asked. I absently scratched the back of my hand.

"Well, it would mean exactly what it sounds like," Dr. Hank said, sounding mildly surprised. "We do have to fight on occasion to protect ourselves."

Hmm. Something didn't quite ring true with that last statement. I scratched the back of my neck.

Dr. Hank turned around to present me with the last of the burn cream, then paused, the almost empty tube slipping out of his hand, and his mouth falling open. He stood like this for a minute.

"What?" I snapped, feeling self-conscious. I leaned over to pick up the tube, reaching out with my hand . . .

"Oh God!" I screamed, snatching my hand back.

"What happened?!" I shrieked.

"Your powers are beginning to really manifest," Dr. Hank said tiredly, rubbing his face with his furry hand.

I had _sprouted_ long blue fur all over my body. It was majorly thick on my arms and legs, although the underside of my arms were almost bare still. I was afraid to look and see what had happened to my hair.

I stumbled backwards, backpedaling frantically. I knocked over a tray, and landed on my butt, scissors and surgical knives scattering around me.

"How come I keep getting the blue furry guys' powers?" I demanded.

* * *

Do you know how embarrassing it is to walk into a room full of people when you're blue and furry, when you had not been so previously?

Didn't think so. Especially when my eyes were still glowing red. Now there was a rare treat.

"Hey, are you the monster that lives in my closet?"

"Ack! Scott and McCoy have bred!"

Hardee har har.

But don't worry, it didn't last too long. I ran into the girl who had the ability to change her skin color (this time on accident) and the fur started FALLING OUT in clumps.

Oh, you haven't even the slightest clue how disgusting it is. It got in EVERYTHING! People who were all the way across the room were complaining about blue fur in their soup.

Jubilee nicely suggested that I stand over the garbage can while I was shedding at this inhuman rate. RB just told me that if another clump of blue fur turned up in her sandwich, she was gonna shove it up my ass.

I stood over the garbage can, thinking resentfully how stupid I must look. Look everybody, it's She-Who-Sheds! Or maybe Shedding Girl! Beware, or she'll clog up your vacuum cleaner!

I started yanking clots of hair out, gritting my teeth. Small sparks danced on my palm. The fire in my eyes was gone. Mr. Scotts powers had deserted me, replaced by Jubilee's.

I began to get a little freaked out. Just yesterday I wasn't able to use my powers at all. Now I was mimicking other powers left and right, before I even got a chance to use them, they were replaced.

The last of the hair came off, leaving me slightly bloody, and leaving the garbage can completely full.

I muttered resentfully at Jubilee and RB, who were laughing uproariously. Jake patted my arm sympathetically, only to get popped by a tiny firework. Jubilee stopped laughing then, and just started looking territorial. Apparently, she didn't like sharing her powers.

My skin was gray again. I decided to use "changes skin color girl" 's powers. I cautiously attempted to change my skin tone peach. Instead, turned a bad spray-on suntan kind of orange. RB laughed. I shocked her in the butt.

My hair was still blue. I turned it black, it's normal color, but then I had a thought. How would blonde look on me?

Just like that, my hair was a nice banana peel kind of blonde.

Jubilee and RB stared. "Well?" I asked.

RB took out her camera-phone and snapped it. "Look for yourself," she said, handing it to me. I considered breaking it, but forgot about that once I saw the picture.

God, I looked fake. I looked like RB. But there was something attractive in the shallowness. It looked safe.

Looking closer, I noticed I had forgotten to color my lips, they were the same burnt orange as my skin. I changed it to bright red.

RB bumped my shoulder playfully. "Looking good, girlfriend!" she laughed. I _felt_ my skin change back to ordinary, leaving the spraytan blonde behind, and replacing it with the ability to change IQ's.

I began banging my head on the table.

"What happened?" RB asked. I continued to bang my head. Then I had a wicked idea. I pointed at RB, and almost instantly, she was drooling and shaking her hands.

"Coffee!" Jubilee cried.

"What?" I asked innocently. "I like her better this way!"

* * *

I was creeping around trying to avoid people. You have no idea how exhausting it is to go through a million powers in one day. I was wobbling a little, I was so tired.

"I'm sorry, Remy, I just can't!" Rogue was shouting. I stopped, curious. When had Rogue been allowed up? And what couldn't she do?

"I just broke up with my boyfriend! You're not supposed to try to grab a girl on the rebound like that!" she snapped.

A deep masculine voice started speaking. "Remy is not picking _chere_ up on the rebound," he said, sounding offended. "Remy might be wrong, but you do not look overly traumatized by your breakup," he pointed out.

"That's not the only thing," Rogue snapped. Lowering her voice, she went on in almost a defeated tone, "It's mostly my powers."

"What? Strength and flight?" he said teasingly.

"NO!" she shouted, exasperated. "The-the other thing," she muttered, sounding shamed.

"We can work past it. Xavier's a smart man, Remy be sure he'll help."

"Oh yes. An illicit romance between a grown man and an eighteen-year old, I'm sure he'll just love that!"

Point one for Rogue.

Remy huffed irritably. "Do you _want_ to work through this?" he shot.

"No - I mean yes of course. I just don't think we'll be getting any help from that department."

"If I'm not good enough—"

"What do you want me to say, Swamp Rat?" Rogue demanded. 'That I love you? That your eyes give me thrills? That I don't want you to leave? Is that good enough, or do you want more?"

"_Chere_—" Remy tried, but he was interrupted.

"Don't you _chere _me! Do you want me to beg you? Because I'm not going to. If you want, you can hop along for the ride, but Rogue stops for no one. Either you step in stride, or you find another pretty face. I'm not going to be anybody's doormat ever again!"

By now they had moved far enough away that I could only hear them when they were shouting. I hurried along my way, thinking deeply about what I had just seen, while settling in on the staircase.

If anybody could handle Rogue in this unpredictable state, I was pretty sure it was Remy. He looked like a force of nature.

I spread my blanket over myself, and proceeded to sleep as well as I could with my head below my chest level, and a stair digging into my back.

* * *

Travelling Army Brat

Heh heh, a bit of a shorter chapter this time. **DOES ANYBODY THINK I SHOULD CHANGE THE NAME OF THIS STORY, AND IF SO, TO WHAT? **I'm not quite as happy with the title as I was, although it comes into play later.

Thanks to Marauders4ever, and –zi-tok-, my wonderful reviewers. Keep reading! There's even better to come!


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